


Upper Orders

by stephie177



Category: Bridgerton (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:13:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28663743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephie177/pseuds/stephie177
Summary: Diana Featherington is the only child of the younger brother of the Baron Featherington. With the passing of both parents Diana has lived with the Baron and his wife since the age of five. Living across the street from the Bridgerton family has allowed for Diana to become close friends with Daphne. Both girls are making their debut into society this social season. Diana has high hopes of finding a future husband. But the one man she really wants she may not be able to have.
Relationships: Benedict Bridgerton/Original Female Character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

My name is Diana Featherington. My father was the younger brother of the Baron Featherington. He died when I was five a year after my mother died in childbirth. I was taken in by the Baron and his wife. I moved from my family home in the country to London. Though with my father having no sons our country home and everything inside was left to me as well as a substantial amount of money. I hope that one day when I am married my husband will like to live in the country.

This is the year that I make my societal debut along with my cousins Prudence, Philipa, and Penelope. Even though Penelope is the youngest I seem to get along with her the best. She is kind and thoughtful and has actually read a book in her lifetime. In another place and another time I would pursue an education. I am fortunate that I was able to convenience my Uncle to let me finish my education. Poor Penelope is not so fortunate. Her mother insist that she debut this year.

Today is a most important day, and for some a terrifying one, for today is the day London's marriage-minded misses are presented to Her Majesty the Queen. Aunt Featherington will be the one presenting us. She can be very particular about our appearances. Prudence is being forced into an impossibly tight corset by her lady's maid.

"Tighter," Aunt Featherington demands. "Tighter!"

"Is she to breathe, Mama?" Penelope questions.

"I was able to squeeze my waist into the size of an orange and a half when I was Prudence's age. Your sister shall do the same," Aunt Featherington insists.

Once all ready we make haste from the house. As we are leaving so are the Bridgerton family who lives across the street from us. After the passing of their father the oldest son, Anthony, acquired his title of Viscount. After him is Benedict, the second son and someone I have pined over for years. Next is Colin who only recently came back home after finishing his studies. Daphne is the oldest daughter and my closest friend. She is also making her debut today and I know she is very excited and nervous much like I. Eloise is the next daughter and Penelope's closest friend. They both value education more than any other girls I have ever met. Viscountess Bridgerton has agreed to let Eloise sit this season out and make her debut next year. Francesca is next followed by the youngest son Gregory, who is only a year older than Hyacinth the youngest Bridgerton.

I wave to Daphne and she waves back with a smile. I catch Benedict's eye and he offers a reassuring smile and nod.

I feel as though I should have more nerves than I do. Making a good impression is a requirement if I hope to find a decent husband. I do not know if I believe in love. My Aunt and Uncle do not seem to have love for each other at all. I have been told from a young age that I will learn to love my husband, but what if I do not? What if I wind up in a loveless marriage? I would have no escape. No way of finding happiness. But I want children and the only respectable way for me to have any is with a husband.

Penelope, Prudence, and Philipa are standing in front of me. I stand with Aunt Featherington waiting for us to be announced.

"Miss Prudence Featherington, Miss Philipa Featherington, Miss Penelope Featherington, and Miss Diana Featherington... all presented by their mother/aunt, the Right Honorable Lady Featherington."

Prudence, Philipa, and Penelope all try to get through the small door at the same time. After they force their way through I follow after them with Aunt Featherington. We walk down the hall stopping in front of Her Majesty the Queen. Aunt Featherington hits Penelope as she looks at the ceiling instead of at Her Majesty. We all curtsy with each of us varying in posture. I know I am the only one to do it correctly. My cousins, though taught properly, are diamonds in the rough. Her Majesty makes a face before standing up. It is only the Queen's eye that matters today. A glimmer of displeasure and a young lady's value plummets to unthinkable depths.

Her Majesty walks over towards me showing no expression. She cracks a small smile. "Beautiful, my dear."

I can not help but smile. Then with a great thud Daphne falls on her face. After picking my cousin up off the floor the debuts continue. I am grateful that I snuck away before we left and had my Lady's maid loosen my corset.

"Miss Daphne Bridgerton, presented by her mother, the Right Honorable, the Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton."

I watch as Daphne confidently walks down the aisle towards Her Majesty. She curtsies and Her Majesty stands up once more. She places her hand under Daphne's chin and lifts it up to meet her gaze.

"Flawless, my dear."

I sit in the parlor with Aunt Featherington, my cousins, and Lady Cowper. This morning copies of Lady Whistledown's Society Papers were left on the steps. It is gossip, but a good read nonetheless. Lady Whistledown has gone a step farther than a scandal sheet ever has, she lists subjects by name, in full. She wrote all about Mary Edgecombe who last season had three offers of marriage after one day, once from an earl. She accepted and is now the Countess of Fulton but lives a rather unhappy life living in a cottage hundreds of miles away from her husband.

Lady Whistledown seems fond of Daphne. She named Daphne as the season's Incomparable. She called her a "diamond of the first water."

My family was not so lucky. It talked in length about Prudence fainting in front of Her Majesty. But it did have a small comment on me. How Her Majesty had called me beautiful.

Aunt Featherington grabs the papers from all of us in a haste. "I should not be surprised if this Whistledown is revealed to be Violet Bridgerton herself. These pages certainly report on the viscountess's family with much indulgence, indeed."

"The pages report nothing but the truth, Lady Featherington. Daphne has bloomed exquisitely, and the sooner she is taken from the market, the better for the other young ladies... even ones prone to hysterics in front of the queen," Lady Cowper remarks.

I look at Penelope trying to hold in a laugh.

Aunt Featherington turns to us. "Ladies, hurry with your miniatures before our guest arrives. And, Penelope, put down that book at once. You shall confuse your thoughts."

"So... tell me about this cousin. Joining you for the entire season?" Lady Cowper says.

"She is a distant cousin of my husband, and with no close female relative to sponsor her debut, Lord Featherington has directed me to take her in for charity," Aunt Featherington explains.

"Hmm. You are known to be quite charitable," Lady Cowper remarks.

"Precisely what this new rumormonger should have published, instead of erroneously specifying that I shall only have four young ladies under my care this year. She knows nothing," Aunt Featherington states.

Penelope stands up. "Unless you shall like to have only four young ladies under your care. I should gladly sit this season out."

"Penelope is quite nervous. This shall be her very first season," Aunt Featherington tells Lady Cowper.

"I am not nervous, Mama," Penelope insists.

"What she is is two stone heavier than she ought to be," Prudence remarks.

"At least Penelope can remain conscious at the most crucial times," I remark.

Prudence glares at me and I smile.

"Mm, those blemishes on her face are quite difficult to conceal. Perhaps some arsenic and lead might help," Philipa offers.

"Should you allow me to delay only a year, just as Lady Bridgerton has done for Eloise, I may remain dedicated to my studies, perhaps," Penelope reasons.

"The answer is no, Penelope," Aunt Featherington states.

Penelope walks back over to sit next to me. I offer her a reassuring smile.

"You may wish to listen to her, my lady. Shepherding five young ladies through these endless rounds of affairs at the same time... Can you imagine the competition?" Lady Cowper offers.

"Well, how much competition can this cousin provoke?" Aunt Featherington questions. "She came of age on a farm, she has a mere four-figure dowry, and as for her appearance... Well, let us hope Miss Thompson is more presentable than the legions of unkempt animals she has spent her entire life tending to back home."

One of the servants walks into the room. "Lord Featherington's cousin has arrived, madam."

Aunt Featherington gasps as she gestures for us to stand up. "Now, remember to be kind, ladies... and charitable. The poor are our burden."

A girl with very curly black hair and medium tawny colored skin walks into the room. She looks to be eighteen or nineteen. She is a very beautiful young girl. Surly competitor for every girl this social season.

"Oh! She's beautiful," Penelope states.

"Good afternoon, Lady Featherington," Marina greets.


	2. Chapter 2

The season's opening ball at Danbury House is a most highly sought-after invitation, indeed, for every darling debutante from Park Lane to Regent Street will be on display. Titled, chaste, and innocent, this is what they have been raised and trained for since birth. Tonight, we shall discover which young ladies might succeed at securing a match, thereby avoiding the dreadful, dismal condition known as "the spinster."

Lady Danbury is a most impressive woman. She is legendary. She runs this town. She is unconcerned with the rules of polite society. I truly admire her.

As my cousins stand and wait for a man to ask them to dance I have no such problems. More than a few suitors have asked me to dance and each time I have obliged. Though I do not think any of them are my future husband.

I spot Daphne and Anthony taking a turn about the room. I smile as I make my way over to them.

"Daphne."

She smiles widely. "Oh. Di. I feel as though I have not seen you in ages."

I chuckle. "It has only been two days, but two days to many indeed." I smile at Anthony. "Anthony."

Anthony smiles. "Diana."

I see you are doing a good job of keeping suitors away from, Daphne," I tease.

"If the only gentlemen present this evening are her brothers, then we're in a great deal of trouble, Indeed," Anthony remarks.

"You continue to say 'we'," Daphne says.

Benedict and Colin walk over towards us.

Benedict smiles at me. "Hello, Di."

I smile widely. "Benedict." I smile at Colin. "Colin."

"Hello Diana," Colin greets. He turns to Daphne. "Did Mother tell you yet? About my tour? I'm to begin in Greece."

"Greece? How adventurous, Colin!" Daphne remarks.

"Marvelous, Colin. Absolutely wonderful," I tell him.

"On guard!" Anthony warns.

Colin and Benedict both try to move away as Lady Danbury approaches us.

"Too late. I already noted you," Lady Danbury tells them.

"Lady Danbury," Benedicts says.

"Good evening," Anthony greets.

Daphne and I curtsy as the boys bow.

"Miss Bridgerton, Miss Featherington you both look rather lovely this evening. Miss Featherington this is the first I've seen you off the dance floor." I smile. "But Miss Bridgerton is there a reason I've yet to see you on the dance floor?"

"All in good time, Lady Danbury," Anthony tells her.

"You poor thing," Lady Danbury says to Daphne before walking off.

"Who is that?" Colin asks.

"I'm sure I've never seen her," Benedict tells him.

"That is Miss Marina Thompson, a distant cousin of Uncle Featherington," I tell Colin.

"So you know her?" Colin asks.

I nod my head. "Go dance with her. I can see it in your eyes that you want to."

Colin nods before joining the dance. Benedict and I start to take a turn around the room.

"Where are your cousins?" Benedict asks.

I point over to the three girls standing beside one another. "Poor Penelope was practically begging Aunt Featherington to wait another year before her debut."

"Well she did let you push back your debut," Benedict reminds me.

"That is because I am not her daughter. Aunt Featherington just wants me to keep from making a fool of myself so her daughters may still yet find decent husbands," I explain.

"You are leaps and bounds ahead of your cousins in terms of potential suitors," Benedict assures.

"It helps that I did not faint in front of Her Majesty," I tease.

Benedict laughs. "I should not laugh about that."

I chuckle. "How can you not?"

Benedict and I stand and chat with Lady Danbury. She truly is a fascinating woman.

"Oh no," I state.

"What is it?" Benedict asks.

"Aunt Featherington is dragging Philipa and Prudence towards the duke," I explain.

"I do not think your cousins are the Duke's type," Lady Danbury admits.

I nod my head. "Nor do I."

"Would you like for me to introduce you to the Duke?" Lady Danbury asks.

"Me?" I shake my head. "No. I do not think myself the type to marry a duke."

"Why not, Dear? You are one of the most eligible young women in this room, " Lady Danbury tells me.

"I just don't know that a duke is what I am looking for," I confess.

"And what is it that you are looking for?" Lady Danbury questions.

"Someone who will embrace my intelligence. Someone who would want to move into my family's home in the country. And someone who desires children," I tell her.

"And if you cannot find a man with all those qualities?" Lady Danbury questions.

"I can always become a spinster. Reading all my books in peace," I joke. Lady Danbury and Benedict both smile. "I think I should find Aunt Featherington. Good evening."

Penelope, Philipa, and Prudence are all sat on one couch as Marina sits on the couch opposite them. I sit on the lounge by the window. The morning after a ball is the time for callers to come by.

A servant comes into the room. "Callers, ma'am. The Earl of Stafford and the Marquess of Finley."

Aunt Featherington smiles. "My word! Well, you should have my colorful fashions to thank."

"For a Miss Marina Thompson and Miss Diana Featherington," the servant says.

I smile as the men walk into the room. Aunt Featherington seems upset by their presence. That the men are here for Marina and I and not for her own daughters.

Dearest reader, this author finds herself compelled to share the most curious of news. It seems our diamond requires a closer inspection. As such, an even rarer jewel of only the most remarkable brilliance, fire, and luster has been unearthed. Her name, unknown to most, yet soon known to all, is Miss Marina Thompson.

I sit down for a moment beside Penelope.

"Can you believe all of these men are here for Marina?" I question.

Penelope shakes her head. "A fair number are here for you as well."

I laugh lightly. "Seven were here for me. Twenty seven for Marina."

"You could have a proposal by the end of the season," Penelope offers.

I shrug my shoulders. "If the man is worthy of me I may say yes."

Numbers of men show up mostly for Marina but a nice number for myself as well. There is not a single caller for Penelope, Philipa, or Prudence.

This author is left to wonder whether Her Majesty might reconsider the high praise she once afforded Miss Bridgerton... for we all must know what the queen despises more than anything... Being wrong. And the drawing room at Bridgerton House currently appears to be emptier than the muddled head of her dearest King George. It follows that Lady Featherington is to receive what she has always desired: the season's true Incomparable living under her own roof. She must be overjoyed.

Aunt Featherington is having her daughters pampered by the servants.

"Is Miss Thompson so high in her instep that she's unable to don her own slippers? I should think not," Aunt Featherington remarks.

Once again we spend the morning in the parlor. Eloise is here to visit Penelope. Many more men are here to visit Marina. This one has gotten down on his knees.

"And so, by Heaven, your love may burn from the depths of my soul. 'Tis thee I shall earn."

Aunt Featherington claps causing everyone else to do the same.

"Wonderful, wonderful. Gentlemen, thank you for your calls. Do not forget to bid Prudence, Philipa, or even Penelope farewell as you go," Aunt Featherington tells the men.

I sit in the parlor of the Bridgerton house with Daphne. She is rather upset with what Lady Whistledown has been writing about her.

"Lady Whistledown has all but declared me ineligible... worthy of the affection of a detestable simpleton and no one else. Tell me, what others should ever want such damaged goods now?" Daphne asks.

"Daph, You speak as if Lady Whistledown were to be held in higher regard than Her Majesty the Queen herself. You give far too much credit to some anonymous scribbler," I tell her.

"Easy for you to say. Lady Whistledown has had nothing but niceties to say about you," Daphne tells me.

"These musings, they're not true," I argue.

"Only they are true, Di, and they are true because of Anthony. He has managed to scare every worthy suitor away. Whistledown has merely reported it," Daphne insists.

"I'm sure he just desires to protect you. It is his duty after all," I remind her.

"And what of my duty? Our entire lives are reduced to a single moment. This is all we have been raised for. This... is all I am. I have no other value. If I am unable to find a husband, I shall be worthless," Daphne tells me.

"Daphne, you're a Bridgerton," I remind her.

"It would be easier if I were not," Daphne insists.

I sigh. "And it would be easier were I not a Featherington. But we cannot change the families we come from. So we do what we have been doing for the past sixteen years," I smile, "Stick by each other's sides and figure it all out one step at a time."


	3. Chapter 3

Ambitious mamas rejoice, for the new Duke of Hastings continues to grace our fair city with his presence. And, oh, what an impressive presence it is! It should be noted that the duke has been overheard announcing to mamas everywhere that he has no plans of ever marrying. This author wonders which brazen matchmaker shall rise to such a challenge, for this competition is well underway.

It has reached my ears that Mr. Colin Bridgerton shall be awarded the year's grand prize when he sweeps Miss Thompson off her pretty little slippered feet. In other news, a most peculiar suitor for Miss Daphne Bridgerton has emerged.

For some reason I have been invited to dinner at the Bridgerton family home. I do not mind though. Dinner with the Bridgerton family is much more delightful than with my own. I am surprised to see that the Duke has also received an invitation.

"Haven't you heard what we're talking about?" Benedict asks.

"For all we know, Whistledown may be some interloper living in Bloomsbury, of all places," Anthony offers.

"What should be so terrible about Bloomsbury? That people there actually work for a living?" Benedict says.

"She does seem to be someone with access," Daphne offers.

"Who knows if Whistledown is even a she?" Colin asks.

"Fair point," Anthony says.

"Because she is simply too good to be anyone but a man?" Eloise asks.

"Well, I think it rather obvious that the writer is Lady Danbury," Francesca offers.

"Lady Danbury enjoys sharing her insults with society directly. She would never bother herself writing them all down," I reason.

"Could it be Lady Featherington?" Hyacinth questions.

"No!" I shout.

"No!" everyone says with a laugh.

"You have yet to read what Whistledown writes of the Featheringtons, little sister," Eloise tells her.

I smile as I wave. "I doubt any of us Featheringtons are capable of being Lady Whistledown, but you Bridgertons though..."

"Us?" Benedict questions.

"I'm not ruling it out," I tease.

"Gregory!" Hyacinth pounds her fists on the table. "Would you stop tossing peas at me?"

"Those peas were already there. You cannot tell me what to do. I am older," Gregory tells her.

"And I'm taller," Hyacinth counters.

"Children..." Lady Bridgerton scolds with a chuckle.

"I'm to spar with Jackson himself," Colin tells Benedict.

"You?" Benedict questions.

"Is that envy I detect in your voice?" Colin taunts.

"I think it judgement," I offer.

"I shall need to witness this," Benedict tells him.

Suddenly both Colin and Benedict turn to look at Daphne and the Duke.

"What are we looking at?" I whisper to Benedict.

"I'm unsure. Anthony just motioned for Colin and I to watch the two of them," Benedict whispers.

"Well I shall watch as well," I whisper.

Benedict chuckles.

"Hastings, I'm so glad you decided to join us this evening. It was most spontaneous of you," Anthony says.

"Not at all. With Lady Danbury accepting your dear mother's gracious invitation on my behalf... Well, however could I have declined?" the Duke reasons.

"You must stay for dessert. It's gooseberry pie, Your Grace," Lady Bridgerton tells him.

"Ah! Lovely!" the Duke says.

As I ready for my departure Benedict walks with me to the door.

"I was invited to dinner by Daphne and yet I have found myself by your side the whole night," I remark.

Benedict smiles. "Daphne seems to prefer arguing with the duke."

I chuckle. "Thank your mama for me again. I shall be off."

Benedict shakes his head. "You are not walking home by yourself."

"I live across the street," I remind him.

Benedict shakes his head again. "It is not safe for a lady like yourself to be walking alone at night." Benedict holds his arm out for me to take.

I sigh as I wrap my arm in his. "Don't let Lady Whistledown catch word of you walking me home."

"She'd be announcing our engagement by tomorrow morning," Benedict jokes.

Be it shame or slander, seduction or smear, there is but one thing that humbles even the most highly-regarded members of our dear ton... a scandal! Well, dear reader, it should seem that all of Grosvenor Square has been left to ponder a rather scandalous question, indeed. Might one former diamond's recent fall from grace turn out to be the most damning scandal of all?

"Di."

I turn and see Benedict walking towards me. "Benny."

Benedict rolls his eyes. "I am not ten anymore, Diana."

I chuckle. "Nor am I."

"Where are your cousins and Lady Featherington?" Benedict questions.

"Marina is ill. Aunt Featherington had to stay home with her. Uncle Featherington had to chaperone." I look around. "Prudence may be passed out somewhere." Benedict laughs. "Philipa is... I have no idea where And Penelope..." I look around again. I smile, "Is on the dance floor with your brother."

"Look at that," Benedict remarks.

"Penelope was quite happy that Aunt Featherington would not be here tonight. She is finally wearing a dress that is not yellow," I state.

"She does seem happier," Benedict admits.

"You cannot imagine what it is like to have Lady Featherington as your mother," I remark.

"Ladies and gentlemen, a most extraordinary event is about to take place. Right this way! Come! Come!"

Benedict holds his arm out to me. "Come along."

We wind up following everyone else into a grove of trees.

"It is with great privilege I present Vauxhall's newest spectacle of illumination. Feast your eyes above and allow all that is radiant to overwhelm you! Wonderful light!"

Everyone claps as lamps hung from trees are illuminated.

I look up in amazement. "Is it not the most bizarre?"

Benedict smiles as he nods. "Yes." I smile as I look up once more. "Have you danced tonight?"

I look at him and shake my head. "No."

Benedict looks surprised. "Has no one asked?"

"Plenty have asked but... I have been avoiding most of my callers," I admit.

"None meet your qualifications?" Benedict teases.

I chuckle. "At the moment no."

"Perhaps you would like to dance with me," Benedict offers.

I smile as I nod. "Lead the way."

As Benedict and I dance fireworks go off overhead. Then I see it. Daphne and the Duke dancing.

"Your sister is dancing with the Duke," I state.

"Don't they look close," Benedict remarks.

"How could they go from arguing one night to madly in love today?" I question.

"In love?" Benedict asks.

"Do you see the way she is looking at him? That is not how a girl looks at just anyone," I reason.

"And how would you know, Di? Have you ever been in love?" Benedict asks.

"I do not know," I confess.

"You do not know?" Benedict questions.

"I think I could love someone," I admit.

"Not one of your callers?" Benedict asks.

"No. Not one of my callers," I tell him.

"Well who then?" Benedict asks.

"You are not my brother. Therefore you are not privy to that information," I tell him with a smile.

Benedict smiles. "I will figure it out. Whether you tell me or not."

For those not in attendance at the Vauxhall celebration, you missed the most remarkable coup of the season. It appears Miss Daphne Bridgerton has captured the interest of the newly returned Duke of Hastings. How the young miss secured her newfound suitor is yet to be determined. Yet, if anyone shall reveal the circumstances of this match, it is I. Yours truly... Lady Whistledown.


	4. Chapter 4

There will forever be just two words that come to this author's mind the morning after any good party, "shock" and "delight." Well, dear reader, the scandalous accounts from last night's soiree at Vauxhall are quite shocking and delightful indeed. Emerging, phoenix-like from the ashes of irrelevance, is one Miss Daphne Bridgerton. The illustrious debutante was seen dancing not once, but twice with the season's most eligible and most uncatchable rake, the Duke of Hastings.

I sit with my cousins in the parlor.

"Of course I don't know. How would I know? Because I can't ask her. Because I don't know how it happened. It's disturbing!" Penelope says.

"What are you girls talking about?" Aunt Featherington questions.

"Penelope is wondering about Miss Thompson," Prudence states.

"Prudence..." Penelope tries to cut her off.

"What of Miss Thompson?" Aunt Featherington asks.

"Penelope has inquiries," Prudence tells her.

"If you do not fall silent..." I warn. "About Miss Thompson's condition."

"I beg your pardon?" Aunt Featherington says.

"They know, ma'am," Mrs Varley informs her.

"How did it happen, Mama? Is there to be a baby?" Penelope asks.

"That will be enough." Aunt Featherington turns to her husband. "My lord, are you hearing this? What are we going to do?"

"There's no need for your hysterics," Lord Featherington tells her.

"Why is Miss Thompson to be kept away?" Penelope questions.

"Because her condition is catching," Aunt Featherington tells us.

I sit with Daphne and her family in their parlor. Daphne is playing the pianoforte as I sit beside her.

"Two dances? With a duke?" Hyacinth asks.

"He was quite taken with your sister, Hyacinth. The entire party was, for that matter. All eyes were on Daphne," Lady Bridgerton tells her. She holds a plate out to Daphne. "At least enjoy some toast, dearest."

"I am not hungry, Mama," Daphne tells her.

"Are you certain the entire party was not simply eyeing a tear in her dress?" Colin offers.

"Or a misstep she took on the dance floor?" Benedict remarks.

"I do wonder, Daphne, might we count on the duke at the Crawford ball?" Lady Bridgerton asks.

"I should think it a fair chance," Daphne tells her mother.

"What about the Ramsbury ball, Friday? Oh! And what about the grand picnic?" Lady Bridgerton asks.

"We shall see, Mama," Daphne tells her.

"How terrible for Fran that she'll be off practicing pianoforte with Aunt Winnie all season and miss Daphne's engagement to the duke," Hyacinth says.

"Did Francesca leave for Bath already?" Gregory asks.

Eloise rushes into the room. "How does a lady come to be with child?"

I nearly choke on my tea.

Lady Bridgerton stands up and walks towards her. "Eloise, what a question!"

"I thought one needed to be married," Eloise states.

"What are you talking about?" Daphne questions.

"Apparently, it's not even a requirement," Eloise says.

"Eloise, that is more than enough," Lady Bridgerton scolds. Eloise trudges off to sit between Colin and Benedict. "Daphne, you were playing so lovely. Please, do go on."

"I take it the two of you know?" Eloise questions.

"Do not look at me," Benedict tells her.

"Have you ever visited a farm, El?" Colin asks.

"I hope you are not encouraging improper topics of conversation," Lady Bridgerton warns.

"Not at all, Mother," Benedict assures.

Colin stands up. "In fact, we were just heading off to... take our sticks out."

"Colin Bridgerton!" Lady Bridgerton shouts.

"A round of fencing," Colin clarifies.

"Miss? Humboldt is coming," a maid informs Lady Bridgerton.

"Humboldt is coming?" Daphne asks.

"Humboldt?" Lady Bridgerton questions.

"Why is Humboldt coming?" Hyacinth asks.

Humboldt walks into the room.

"Has someone arrived, Humboldt?" Daphne asks.

"Callers for Miss Daphne, ma'am," Humboldt tells her.

Daphne squeals in excitement.

"But... the duke. You already have a caller, dearest," Lady Bridgerton reminds her.

"Well, I suppose now I have more," Daphne tells her.

I stand up. "I should leave you to your callers, Daphne. But I will see you at the ball." I smile at Lady Bridgerton. "That you for the tea."

"It is always a pleasure to have you, Diana," Lady Bridgerton tells me.

As I leave I walk past an impressive number of young callers. It seems that with the affections of the Duke Daphne is now the most sought after of all us young ladies.

Penelope corners me as I arrive home. "Di."

I smile. "Hello, Pen."

"You are older than me and I was wondering if... if you know how a lady comes to be with child?" Penelope asks.

"Eloise just asked the same." Then I realise. "Did you tell Eloise Bridgerton about Marina's condition?"

"No. No," Penelope assures me. "I told her it was a maid."

I smile slightly. "You always were an intelligent girl. But just like you I have been sheltered from those parts of life."

"I'm going to see her. I'm going to see Marina," Penelope tells me.

I nod my head. "I shall go with you."

Penelope knocks on the door to Marina's room before opening it. "We found you a few sweets. We thought you might enjoy them while everyone else attends tonight's ball." She puts the plate down on the table.

"You can come in. I'm sure there's plenty to spare," Marina says.

I hear footsteps and shove Penelope into the room before closing the door after us. I bring the plate of sweets over to Marina. "I hear they have decided not to send you home to your papa."

"I dare say I am relieved. I can only imagine how he will react to..." Marina trails off.

"Your condition? Marina... may I ask? How did it happen?" Penelope questions.

Marina smiles as she holds up a piece of cake. "Cake."

"Cake?" Penelope questions.

"Our vicar in Somerset was given to hours-long sermons. Three, four, sometimes five hours they last. I would nearly swoon from hunger and fatigue. Until one Sunday, just when I thought I'd have to crawl under the pew from exhaustion, the eldest Crane boy, George... Sir George Crane sneaked me a wrapped bundle of cake and biscuits." Marina smiles. "The vicar would've had his head if he knew." I laugh lightly. "After some time, the bundles came to include small notes. We passed tiny missives back and forth for months. I've never longed for church quite so much."

"And where is Sir George now?" I question.

"Spain. He went off to fight with Wellington... but he continued to write." Marina pulls back the cover on her bed showing a stack of letters. "See?"

"So... your condition, then, it was brought about by..." Penelope trails off.

"Love. It was love, Penelope," Marina tells her.

I spot Lady Bridgerton with Benedict and Colin. Lady Danbury has swept Anthony off somewhere and Daphne is dancing with the Duke.

"Diana," Lady Bridgerton greets. "You look beautiful."

I smile. "Thank you, Lady Bridgerton."

"I suppose your Aunt is here?" Lady Bridgerton says.

I nod. "I was able to slip away as soon as we crossed the threshold."

Colin and Benedict chuckle lightly.

Lady Bridgerton smiles. "I'm sure that if you could sponsor yourself you would."

I laugh lightly. "The thought has crossed my mind."

Lady Bridgerton turns to Benedict. "Why don't you keep Miss Featherington company."

"Yes, mother," Benedict tells her.

I smile at Benedict as his mother and brother walk off.

"So is it true?" I ask.

"Is what true?" Benedict questions.

"Is the Duke really courting Daphne?" I ask.

"It would appear so," Benedict tells me.

"But what about Lord Berbrooke? Was she not engaged to him?" I ask.

"Would you wish to marry Lord Berbrooke?" Benedict asks.

I shake my head. "Heavens no."

He chuckles. "Exactly why Daphne is trying her best to find another man willing to propose."

"Is the duke going to propose?" I ask.

"So many questions. Should you not be asking Daphne all of this?" Benedict says.

"She is rather busy, I think." I point to Daphne and the duke dancing.

"And what about you. Should you not be out there dancing with your callers?" Benedict asks.

"I have not had many callers recently," I admit.

"Any of the bachelors in this room should be so lucky to call themself a caller of yours," Benedict tells me.

I smile as I try no to blush.

Anthony walks over and puts his hand on Benedict's shoulder. "Go dance with your sister."

"Why?" Benedict questions.

"Because I asked you to!" Anthony tells him. He pushes him forward towards the dance floor.

"Hello to you to Lord Bridgerton," I tease.

"I do not have time for your remarks right now, Diana," Anthony states. 

"By all means my Lord. I shall leave you to stare at the duke," I say before walking off.


	5. Chapter 5

This author has often thought the heart a most curious of instruments, heeding neither reason nor rank. For what possible explanation might Miss Bridgerton have for entertaining the suit of a mere baron when she seems to have secured a duke? Could the debutante's mind not be the only thing amiss? Let it be known, dear reader, that if this bizarre behavior portends yet another scandal, then be sure that I shall uncover it, for there is nothing like an excursion into nature to lift the spirits and loosen the tongue.

I sit with my family in the park. Aunt Featherington has still not allowed for Marina to come out of her room. A few men here and there have come to talk to Uncle Featherington, but I pay them no mind.

"Mama, might I go play with Eloise?" Penelope asks.

"A lady does not play, Penelope," Aunt Featherington tells her.

"Forgive me, Mama. Might I go promenade for suitors with Eloise?" Penelope asks.

"Very well, then," Aunt Featherington tells her.

I stand up as well. "I think I shall pay Daphne a visit. She's been so busy recently I have not been able to see her much."

Aunt Featherington waves me off.

I walk over towards the Bridgerton family. "Good afternoon."

Everyone smiles and replies a "good afternoon".

I sit down next to Daphne on a blanket. "Hello, Daph."

Daphne smiles as she takes my hands in hers. "I have so much news."

"Well on with it," I tell her.

"Mama has been invited to a private tea by Her Majesty herself," Daphne tells me.

I smile. "That is wonderful. Aunt Featherington will be most displeased when she hears about it."

"Lady Featherington is most displeased with anything pertaining to anyone other than her daughters," Daphne states.

I chuckle lightly. "So what of you and Lord Berbrooke?"

"It is done," Daphne states.

"Good. You deserve better than Berbrooke could ever give you. Like maybe a duke," I say. I can see Daphne smile ever so slightly. "So is true. You and the duke are courting?"

Anthony walks over to the two of us before Daphne can answer. "I would like a word with my sister."

I sigh. "You have the worst timing, Anthony."

I stand up and walk over to Gregory and Hyacinth. "What are you two playing?"

"Shuttlecock," Gregory tells me.

"Would you like to play with us?" Hyacinth asks.

"I was never very good at shuttlecock." I chuckle. "Do you by chance have spillikins"

"Di was a champion at spillikins in her day," Benedict tells them.

"I bet I can beat her," Gregory insists.

I smile. "I will accept the challenge."

I step back after a few long rounds of spillikins.

"You are great with my siblings," Benedict tells me.

"I always wanted siblings. The closest I got was Penelope and she is wonderful but I always longed for a large family like yours," I confess.

"Bridgerton!" A very badly beaten Berbrooke comes rushing towards Anthony paper in hand. "I bring cheerful news, Bridgertons. I have taken matters in my own hands and sought a special license for my wedding to Miss Bridgerton."

"There is to be no wedding," Daphne tells him.

"I told you. The arrangement is canceled," Anthony reminds him.

"Lord Berbrooke, you look in a great deal of pain. Shall we continue this in a more private location?" Lady Bridgerton offers.

"I require no further conversation. Though, perhaps I am finally speaking to the true head of the Bridgerton house. For if it were you, I imagine you would have instructed your sister to take better care than to encourage certain attentions while alone with me on the Dark Walk at Vauxhall. Of course, mere hearsay of such a scandal could wreak havoc on even the most influential of families. What would someone like, say, Lady Whistledown do with such unseemly information?" Berbrooke says.

"Is that a threat?" Anthony asks.

"It is certainly not. Because in three days, I am to marry. I have the diamond of the season. I have the very best the ton has to offer. I have a Bridgerton. And I shall save her, as well as your entire family, from the ruin which you could not protect them," Berbrooke says as she shoves the paper into Anthony's chest.

The duke steps forward towards Berbrooke. Benedict is quick to hold him back.

"I look forward to the union of our great families. Bridgerton. Hastings." Berbrooke walks off in a haste.

It has come to this author's attention that the ton is abuzz with a most sordid tale. It is said one cannot judge a book by its cover. But in the case of the bumbling Baron Berbrooke, it seems his displeasing appearance is quite an apt metaphor for the state of affairs in his household. I would not be surprised if Lord Berbrooke were called away to the country on alleged business... Business which, perhaps, might involve sending some much overdue funds to one former maid and young boy, who we can only hope takes after his mother.

"Good, I've caught you before you've started to ready."

I turn around and see Daphne standing in the doorway.

"I've read Lady Whistledown's paper. Is it true?" I ask.

Daphne nods before smiling widely. "I am free of Berbrooke."

"Now you can focus all your attention on the duke," I offer.

"And who will you be focusing your attention on?" Daphne questions.

"I have not decided," I tell her.

"Surely one of your callers has caught your attention," Daphne reasons.

"Daphne, they are all horrible," I confess.

"Come now. One of them must be worth giving a second thought to," Daphne reasons.

I shake my head. "No. I don't think that I will find a husband this season."

"Di, do not talk like that," Daphne tells me.

"I do not wish to settle," I state.

"And you should not," Daphne says.

"I am in no rush. I will just have to wait for my husband to come along" I state.

As every other ball this season I spend time dancing with any man that asks. I know I should pick and choose but at this point I'll accept any offer to dance. The sooner I get married the sooner I get out of the Feathrington home.

I find Benedict off in a room by himself. He is planted in front of a painting studying it.

"Good evening," I greet.

"Diana," Benedict says.

"I should have known you would be looking at a painting somewhere," I tease.

Benedict looks around. "We cannot be alone together."

"We are not alone. The door is wide open for anyone to see," I assure him.

"It is risky. We must do everything to ensure your virtue remains free of any kind of defilement," Benedict tells me.

"Yes. Yes. To find me a right and proper husband," I remark.

"You could do whatever you like and instead become a spinster," Benedict offers.

I shake my head as I smile lightly. "I have to ask you something."

"Anything," Benedict tells me.

"I know of someone... with child," I tell him.

"It cannot be Lady Featherington. She is far too advanced in age. Though I suppose your uncle should still want a boy..." Benedict reasons.

I shake my head. "No it is not Aunt Featherington. It is a maid."

"Which one of your maids is married?" Benedict questions.

"She is not married," I state.

Benedict nods. "Oh."

"Which brings me to my question. How did she become with child if she is not married?" I ask.

"No. I will not tell you that," Benedict insists.

"How am I supposed to make sure it never happens to me?" I ask.

"Diana, you have not the faintest idea of how this works," Benedict states. "I can assure you a lady such as yourself has not to worry about such things."

I step closer to Benedict. If anyone were to see us this close unchaperoned the ton would be buzzing with words of my impure nature.

"Eloise asked and by the way you reacted you know. So you will tell me and you will tell me now," I insist.

"Your husband will tell you everything you need to know on your wedding night," Benedict assures me.

"The maid. She said it was love. You must think me so naive," I state.

"I think you raised right," Benedict counters. "Maybe a little too curious for your own good." I smile slightly. "I think we should head back out before people start to talk."

I nod my head. "You are probably right."


	6. Chapter 6

Dearest gentle reader, it is often said that those who marry in haste must repent at leisure, a sentiment that is clearly shared by Miss Daphne Bridgerton, who has apparently rejected not one, not two, but three proposals already this week. Some believe she is showing admirable forethought in her deliberations, but I would venture a different conjecture, that she, like this author, is still waiting on the only suitor of note.

Penelope and I are waiting for the post to arrive. Since Marina is still locked in her room Penelope and I have been searching the mail every day for a letter from Spain.

"Post has arrived!"

I smile at Penelope as we rush down the stairs.

"Some prince is coming to London," Prudence tells Philipa.

Philipa gasps. "Then I shall wear my most brilliant dress of all."

"Something must hold his interest, as it will certainly not be your conversation," Prudence remarks.

Penelope shuffles through the letters on the try that a servant holds. She frowns, not finding any letter. We head to tell Marina the news.

"Anything?" Marina questions. Penelope and I shake our heads. Marina throws herself down on the bed. "How long does it take for a letter to arrive from Spain?"

"Sir George is with the front line. It must be difficult to get letters in and out," I reason.

"You must be patient. If your love is as great as your previous letters state, surely he will write back to you soon. Or perhaps, even better, he's already making his way back to you here to come and take you home," Penelope says.

Aunt Featherington burst through the door followed by Mrs Varley. "Penelope Featherington! What did I tell you about cavorting with the expectant?"

"Marina has been in here for ages, Mama!" Penelope says.

"Out. Out." Aunt Featherington pulls Penelope away from Marina. "Out!" She turns to me. "You as well Diana."

Penelope and I watch from the door.

"You cannot hide me away forever," Marina states.

"No, I cannot, which is why you are to reenter society at once and find yourself a husband," Aunt Featherington tells her.

"I do not want..." Marina starts.

Aunt Featherington cuts her off, "What you want became immaterial long ago. You shall wed, and you shall do it as soon as possible. You are to be fitted for a new wardrobe. It's about time you dressed in the family colors anyway."

"That poor girl," I remark.

"It is not fair what mama is doing to her," Penelope states.

I shake my head. "It is not. No one should be punished for finding love."

Another day means another social event. Aunt Featherington however will not let Marina attend until she has a new wardrobe fitted. She has yet to start showing, but I assume Aunt Featherington is planning ahead.

I dance with a few suitors here and there. Penelope, Prudence, and Philipa have still yet to have any callers of their own. I feel sorry for them. They stand around and watch as everyone else always dances and chats.

Benedict smiles as he walks towards me. "And how did you find your eligible bachelors?"

"I must confess, I have felt more chemistry when being fitted at the modiste," I state.

"The prince is from Prussia, and I dare say that I just caught his eye," Prudence says.

Her and Philipa walk past Benedict and I.

"I love Russia. I could swoon," Philipa remarks.

"They do not even know him," I state.

"They do not need to," Benedict remarks.

"Besides the fact he is a prince," I say.

"Surely you cannot be surprised. You know how this works," Benedict states.

I chuckle. "I suppose you are right." Benedict smiles. "Watch as Miss Cowper lowers her eyes.

Benedict nods. "Mm."

"Oh, so demure. Now she will look up at him, ever so quickly, and then allow her fan to slowly sweep across her bosom before casting her eyes back upon the ground, for one is much too timid to ever meet His Royal Highness's piercing gaze, of course." I chuckle. "Oh, now he will kiss her hand."

"Forever charmed by her submission," Benedict states.

"Precisely." I smile widely. "Maybe you should take notes. Should you ever decide to find yourself a wife."

Benedict chuckles. "I find comfort in knowing that when I decide to take a wife I am a Bridgerton. Any girl would swoon to get a chance at having me court them."

I scoff. "Such a burst of confidence, Benny."

Benedict smiles. "Confidence is key my dear." Anthony gestures for Benedict. "I shall see you next time, Di."

"I'll be around tomorrow to see Daphne," I tell him.

"Then I shall see you tomorrow," Benedict says before walking off to join his brother.

"Hello Miss Featherington."

I smile and curtsy. "Good evening Lady Danbury."

"I do believe that Mr Benedict has been to more social events this season than ever before," Lady Danbury says.

"Miss Bridgerton did make her debut this season," I remind her.

"Then why have I seen him with you and rarely his own sister?" Lady Danbury questions.

I can feel myself blush. "We are friends. Miss Bridgerton and I have been close friends since the age of five. I would only think that my friendliness extend to the whole Bridgerton family."

Lady Danbury nods. "Friendliness yes. He is a very eligible suitor should someone wish to turn that friendship into something more."

Daphne and I sit in the parlor of her home.

"How is it with the duke?" I question.

"It is well, but I must confess something," Daphne tells me.

I look at her curiously. "What is it?"

"I do not know that a proposal will ever come from the duke. He does not wish to marry," Daphne tells me.

"Why ever not?" I ask.

"I asked Anthony about it," Daphne says.

"They are best friends," I offer.

"Anthony told me that the duke barely knew his father. Never knew his mother. Not one sibling. He has not mentioned his so-called family even once. He has spent his entire life alone," Daphne tells me.

I sigh. "I know the feeling."

"So how is it that you can find the desire to wed?" Daphne asks.

"Do I have another choice?" I question. "If I were not to marry I would never be able to get out of the Featherington house." Daphne chuckles. "But I would also not be able to create a family for myself. The family I have always longed for."

I have always thought that an appreciation of the arts is what lifts us beyond mere animals. It stirs the passions and moves the spirit, and, this author hopes, inspires more newsworthy pursuits. A new wing at Somerset House is to be opened today, where several attractions will be on display... like the lovely Miss Marina Thompson, newly recovered from her mysterious illness and expected to finally rejoin the season. Of course, there is today's royal attraction as well, Prince Friedrich of Prussia. His Highness has come to our shores in want of a fine Fräulein. Could this be the reason a certain language tutor has been seen visiting Cowper House all week?

Art covers the walls of the Somerset House. Some bore me, some intrigue me, some are just down right horrendous. I spot Aunt Featherington dragging Marina through the crowd towards Uncle Featherington and an older man.

"Lord Middlethorpe, you simply must meet Miss Marina Thompson, a distant cousin of my husband's," Aunt Featherington introduces.

"Miss Thompson, the pleasure is mine," Lord Middlethorpe says.

"Entirely," Marina states.

Penelope arrives. "Marina..."

"Penelope, allow us to view some of the paintings over here," Aunt Featherington tells her.

"I had a brief question to ask Marina," Penelope explains.

"Now is not the time, Penelope," Aunt Featherington tells her.

"I believe now to be the perfect time," Marina says.

"Miss Thompson?" Lord Middlethorpe says.

Marina turns to face the man. "I certainly was not addressing you."

"I do not believe that I have ever met such a lovely girl with such an ugly countenance," Lord Middlethorpe remarks before walking off.

"You are a meddlesome little wench," Aunt Featherington tells Penelope. She turns to Marina. "And you clearly do not understand the gravity of your situation. That will need to change."

I find Benedict right where I expected him to be standing in front of a painting thinking.

"Oh Benedict please save me," I tease

Benedict smiles. "Save you from suitors or Lady Featherington?"

"Lady Featherington this time," I tell him. I point to the painting. "Quite dull, would you not agree?

"It is terribly familiar, yet I am sure this is the first time I have seen it," Benedict states.

"That is because, like all of these paintings, it was done by a man who sees a woman as a decorative object," I tell him.

"Now that you mention it it does appear that these women are like.. Human vases," Benedict admits.

We move over to the next painting finding ourselves standing next to Lady Danbury and another man.

"It's much too cold. Where's any sense of the subject's spirit? And the light! Given the quality, I do wonder why the piece was not skyed with the other daubs," Benedict states.

"Perhaps we should ask the artist," Lady Danbury offers.

"That would be something, Lady Danbury," Benedict tells her.

"Mm..." Lady Danbury turns to the man next to her. "Mr. Granville, why was your piece not skyed?"

Benedict looks panicked. "Mr. Granville, I..."

"If you will excuse me, um, I must find my wife," Mr Granville says before walking off.

"You diabolical... How could you let me rattle on like that?" Benedict questions.

"How could I not, my dear Mr. Bridgerton?" Lady Danbury counters.

I chuckle. "It was riotously funny, you must admit."

Benedict and I continue to look through the rooms of paintings.

"I think you could do better than half of these," I state.

"Me?" Benedict asks. I nod my head. "You've never even seen my work."

I shrug my shoulders. "I'm sure anything you create would be marvelous."

"You have such faith," Benedict says.

"And if you would show me your work it would not be such blind faith," I tease.

Benedict shakes his head. "I do not show my work to anyone."

"Why?" I question.

"It is not good enough," Benedict insists.

"How would you know if no one has ever seen it?" I question. Benedict gives me a look. I point to a panting. "It is very beautiful. It reminds me of waking up in the country. First thing in the morning, when I am all alone, and I have not yet spoken to a soul... I look outside the window, and it is... serene. As if I could be the only person left in the world, and yet... somehow I am not lonely. I am comforted, at peace."

"The others are certainly very grand and impressive, but this one... This one is intimate," Benedict agrees.

I jump as I hear gasps from the other room. Benedict and I rush in. Everyone is surrounding the prince and Cressida who is on the floor.

"What has happened?" I ask Philipa.

"Cressida swooned," Philipa tells me.

"And Prince Friedrich caught her," Prudence adds.

"Water?" the Prince asks.

"Yes, water, please. Thank you," Lady Cowper says.

"I dare say it was the most romantic thing I've ever seen," Philipa remarks.

I roll my eyes causing Benedict to chuckle. The prince helps Cressida up to thunderous applause.

"I shall never swoon for a man," I state. "My wit and charm shall be enough."

Benedict chuckles. "I think it is your critique of art that has sold me."


	7. Chapter 7

These days, the modern young lady must display a miscellany of talents in her quest for a suitor. She must be a witty conversationalist, an accomplished musician, and an expert in the art of the swoon. For managing to faint with nary a petticoat out of place is a most coveted talent indeed. Of course, not everyone has fallen victim to the royal fever sweeping through London Town. One diamond in particular seems quite immune making this author wonder if the crown has lost its luster.

I sit in the Bridgerton family parlor. Something I find myself doing more often these days. Daphne is playing pianoforte as Eloise reads.

"Oh! Enough! I beg of you," Eloise remarks.

"Perhaps you should join me. You will need to be proficient on the pianoforte soon enough," Daphne tells her.

"You could use the practice, I'm sure," I tease.

"On second thought, continue. You will frighten away the duke, the prince, and any other eligible suitor clear across the North Sea," Eloise taunts.

"And you would wish that upon me, would you, Sister?" Daphne questions.

"If it kept Mama's attentions focused on you instead of me, I might," Eloise admits.

"You can take your reading outside," Daphne tells her.

"You say that as if reading were a bad thing," Eloise states.

"I meant no such thing," Daphne assures.

"But it won't gain me a husband? That what you meant?" Eloise questions.

"Eloise..." Daphne starts.

"You wish to follow your heart, and I wish to nurture my mind. Let us leave it there," Eloise states.

"Can you at least try to understand? You never see things from my perspective. You are not the only one with troubles, Eloise. You have no idea what it... It does not matter," Daphne says.

"Is it an original?" Eloise asks.

"What?" Daphne questions.

"That song, did you compose it yourself?" Eloise asks.

"In a manner of speaking," Daphne tells her.

"What is the name of it?" Eloise asks.

"It does not have a name," Daphne states.

"Every song has a name," I insist.

"It is just a song," Daphne says.

"If you need to practice, then do so. Just... come up with a name for it, at least," Eloise says.

I stand up. "Your sisters' quarrel was rather entertaining but I shall be off."

"I shall see you at the ball," Daphne tells me.

On the way out I pass Benedict alone tearing a page from a sketchbook. I walk into the room and close the door behind me.

Benedict sits up straighter in his chair. "I have told you Diana we cannot be alone together."

"It is your own house. Who shall see us and speak ill of our intentions?" I argue. Benedict sighs. I pick up one of the sheets of paper crumpled up on the floor. "These are not bad."

"They are abominable. I can not stand to look at them," Benedict tells me.

I chuckle. "I believe that is why they call it a sketchbook." I walk over to him and look over his shoulder at his sketches. "And what of these. You can bare to look at them or you have yet to rip them up?"

"You think to highly of these sketches," Benedict tells me.

"If you enjoy drawing but need practice, then practice. Hire a drawing master. Find a young lady to act impressed. I would ask you to draw me... But I know it is taboo. Unbecoming of a lady."

"Di..." Benedict trails off.

"Daphne told me that the other day your mother said something curious. That one should marry one's dearest friend. And it got me wondering is that truly what marriage is all about, then? Friendship?" I ask.

"Well, I imagine it a good start. Though most marriages are more like battlefields," Benedict tells me.

"Even if it is a battlefield, there must be other things that hold the troop together," I reason.

"My word! I might have thought you were trying to organize a militia," Benedict remarks.

"What I mean is there are other things... physical... or perhaps intangible... that bring a couple together," I explain.

"Well, yes, of course there's more to a marriage, physical and intangible. Both," Benedict tells me.

I look at him curiously. "Both? But how can something be both physical and intangible when they are quite the opposite?" Benedict chuckles as he stands up. "You are beastly! Never mind."

"No. I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at the absurdity of how little mothers tell their daughters," Benedict tells me.

"Well I have no mother. You remember that. But Aunt Featherington has told me nothing. Something else you already now," I state.

"And you already know that I certainly cannot tell you," Benedict says.

I step closer to him. "Why not?"

"Because it is not my place. It is scandalous for you to even be asking such things," Benedict states.

"No one else will tell me anything. So, how am I to find a proper husband if I do not even know what I am to be searching for?" I question.

"You will know when you know," Benedict assures.

"What does that even mean?" I question.

"I cannot tell you," Benedict insists.

"I thought we were friends," I state.

"Diana..." Benedict starts.

"Benedict. Tell me," I say. Benedict gives me a look. "Tell me!"

"All right! All right! What happens between a husband and a wife... Well, it is a natural continuation of what happens at night," Benedict tells me.

"At night? What happens at night?" I question.

"When you are alone," Benedict states.

I look at him confused. "When I am sleeping?"

"Not when you are sleeping." Benedict steps closer. "When you touch yourself. You do touch yourself?" I look at him curiously. "When you are alone, you can touch yourself... anywhere on your body, anywhere that gives you pleasure, but especially... between your legs. And when you find a feeling you particularly enjoy... you can carry on with that... until the feeling grows, and eventually you reach... a pinnacle, a release. And that should help you..." Benedict trails off.

I let out a shaky breath. "I should go."

Penelope and I once again wait for the mail to arrive.

"I'm beginning to think there is a conspiracy to deprive us of mail," I remark.

Penelope smiles. "A letter will arrive any day now. I am sure of it."

"Post has arrived!"

Penelope once again goes through the letters on the tray as she has done every day for weeks. This time she pulls a letter from the rest. I have to stop myself from letting out a squeal. I grab Penelope's arm and drag her towards Marina's room. She is sitting on her bed as Penelope and I burst through the door.

"Marina, it is here. A letter from Spain," Penelope tells her.

Marina grabs the letter and rips it open.

"It must be from Sir George. He has written back to you," I state.

"Well, what does he say?" Penelope asks. Marina's face drops. "Well?"

Marina sits down on the bed.

"What has happened? Marina, has he been wounded?" I question.

"He pretends there was nothing between us." Marina starts to cry.

"How do you mean?" Penelope questions.

"He says he desires... nothing more to do with me, or our... my situation. That he had no part in it." Marina lets out a sob.

I hold her close as she wails in agony.

Marina puts on a brave face as we attend another ball. I cannot imagine the agony she is in. She was, probably still is, in love with Sir George. And she has a constant reminder growing inside of her.

After Daphne dances with the prince I am able to get her by herself.

"What happened to the duke?" I question.

"I do not wish to speak of the duke," Daphne tells me.

"Did you two have a fight?" I ask.

"It does not matter. The duke has made it very clear that he no longer wishes to have anything to do with me," Daphne tells me.

"Daph, I'm sorry," I offer.

Daphne shakes her head. "Do not be. Without the duke I still have plenty of other suitors."

"But you two seemed so happy," I offer.

"I thought the same," Daphne tells me.

Could it be true? The season's diamond even more precious and rare a stone than previously thought? For it now appears this treasure is set to join the likes of the queen's ever-so-cherished crown jewels themselves. The Duke of Hastings, I hear, was left looking rather tongue-tied last night, as Miss Bridgerton seems to have finally grown tired of waiting for him to pose that all-important question. Or, perhaps, the young miss has simply traded up. Surprising? Quite. Unreasonable? Of course not. After all, why settle for a duke when one can have a prince?


	8. Chapter 8

In a town filled with ambitious mamas and fortune-hunting gentlemen, marrying above one's station is an art form, indeed. But Miss Daphne Bridgerton's advance from future duchess to possible princess is an achievement that even this jaded author must applaud. Though this author cannot dismiss the Duke of Hastings quite so soon. He may have let the diamond slip through his fingers for now, but I shall wager he is not a man to ever hide from a fight.

I sit in the parlor the same as always.

"Kindly remind me, my lord, why we cannot simply send Miss Thompson back to her father in the country?" Aunt Featherington questions.

"The matter is not for discussion," Uncle Featherington tells her, barely looking up from his paper.

"A gentleman caller. Mr. Albion Finch."

A young man walks into the room flowers in hand. "Good day." He sneezes. "Daisies always trouble my nose."

"Miss Thompson is not receiving visitors, Mr. Finch," Aunt Featherington tells her.

"That is quite all right. I am here to call on Miss Featherington," Mr Finch explains.

Philipa looks quite surprised.

"Miss Philippa Featherington?" Aunt Featherington asks.

Philipa stands and walks over to Mr Finch. She curtseys before taking the flowers from him. "Thank you, sir."

Daphne and I sit in the parlor of her family's home.

"Is it true? Is my greatest friend to be a princess?" I question. "If I were your sister would I to get to be a princess?"

"Calm yourself," Daphne tells me. I smile. "I am not yet engaged to the prince."

"Will you have to wear a crown?" I ask.

"Perhaps for special occasions, but only if I should marry the prince," Daphne tells me.

"Will you have to learn German?" I ask.

"Perhaps, but only if I should marry the prince," Daphne says.

"Will you have to move to a beautiful castle far, far away?" I question.

Daphne chuckles. "You are worse than Hyacinth."

I laugh. "Philipa had a caller this morning."

"Really?" Daphne asks. I nod. "How nice for her."

"He seemed like... a strange one," I confess. "So truly perfect for Philipa." Daphne chuckles. "So what of you. Are you to see the prince today?"

"Anthony is taking me to a boxing exhibition," Daphne tells me.

"Where does the prince come in?" I question.

"He will be there," Daphne assures.

"Is a boxing exhibition truly where you should be courting the prince?" I ask.

"I don't see why not," Daphne offers.

As we all know, there is nothing this author loves more than a scandal, and tonight's soiree promises more than its fair share, courtesy of the recently widowed Lady Trowbridge. Some may call her celebrations too provocative, and I would caution any young lady from getting caught up in the sensual nature of her fêtes. For one scandalous move between an unwed couple, a wayward touch, or heaven forbid, a kiss, would banish any young lady from society in a trail of ruin.

As we enter the ball Aunt Featherington spots the rather rotund man she hopes to marry Marina off to.

"Lord Rutledge." She grabs hold of Marina. "Miss Thompson has spent all afternoon telling us how eager she is to converse with you."

"I don't need her conversation. I shall like to see how she spins," Lord Rutlegde says before leading Marina onto the dance floor.

Mr. Finch sneezes as he approaches us.

"Mr. Finch," Philipa greets.

"Pardon me, Miss Featherington. Oh! What a delectable frock! Almost the exact shade of double Gloucester your mother served at tea this afternoon. I so love cheese," Mr Finch says.

"As do I, Mr. Finch. Though, I must say, I do prefer a Stilton to a cheddar," Philipa says.

"Perhaps we will have two weddings this season, my lord," Aunt Featherington remarks.

"Oh, I do doubt that," Uncle Featherington says.

I spot Daphne all by herself. "Daph."

"Di. There you are," Daphne says.

I chuckle. "Me? You've been the one busy dancing all night."

Daphne smiles slightly. "Benedict told me to tell you hello."

"Is he not here?" I question.

"No. He said he had something else planned for tonight," Daphne tells me.

"Philipa and her caller are having a rousing conversation about cheese," I inform her.

Much thought she try Daphne cannot stifle a laugh. "And you question my meeting the prince at a boxing exhibition?"

"Daphne!" Cressida walks over towards us. "You look beautiful, as always."

"Thank you, Cressida," Daphne says.

"You could have chosen anyone. You have gentlemen lined up to pay you tribute. Yet you did not hesitate to steal my chance for happiness away, did you? I knew the marriage market would make rivals of us, but I never thought you capable of being my enemy," Cressida says.

"The man made his choice, Cressida," Daphne tells her. "What did you expect me to do?" She walks off towards the prince.

I smile a sickeningly sweet smile at Cressida.

Aunt Featherington is speaking with Lady Trowbridge. "Quite the affair, Lady Trowbridge. You have such, uh..." She chuckles "...striking taste."

"What a compliment, Lady Featherington, especially from you," Lady Trowbridge remarks.

Prudence guides a crying Philipa towards Aunt Featherington .

"Philippa, should you not be on the dance floor with Mr. Finch?" Aunt Featherington pushes Prudence and Philipa away from Lady Trowbridge. "Dry your eyes."

"Such constant commotion with this one, Mama," Prudence remarks.

"Is it worse to faint in front of Her Majesty or to cry at a Trowbridge ball?" I taunt.

"Mr. Finch won't so much as meet my eye. Papa told him something, and now..." Philipa sobs. "I loved him."

"Diana!" I turn and see Anthony walking towards me. "Have you seen Daphne?"

I shake my head. "Not for a while. Why? What has happened?"

"I can't seem to find her," Anthony tells me.

"Well I shall help you look," I offer.

"No. You should stay, people will talk," Anthony says.

I scoff. "Who will talk? Now whether you like it or not I will help you find your sister."

Anthony and I cannot find Daphne anywhere inside. We both head outside towards the garden. I pray for her sake that she is not there. Especially not with a man.

When we find her Daphne is not alone. The duke and her are kissing. The duke's hands all over Daphne's body.

"Bastard!" Anthony pushes the Duke off of Daphne and punches him in the face.

"Anthony!" Daphne shouts.

I rush to Daphne. "Daph."

Anthony punches the duke twice more. "You will marry her."

"What?" Daphne questions.

"Immediately. We can only hope no one saw you take such liberties, and my sister is saved further mortification. You will marry her!" Anthony insists.

"Brother!" Daphne scolds.

The duke has steady himself on his feet once more. "I cannot marry her."

Anthony gets in the duke's face. "You have defiled her innocence, and now you refuse her hand? I knew you were a rake, Hastings, never thought a villain."

"I cannot marry her," the duke repeats.

"Then you leave me no choice. I must demand satisfaction," Anthony states.

"A duel?" I question.

"Anthony, you cannot..." Daphne starts.

"He dishonors you, sister. He dishonors you and me and the very Bridgerton name. I have misjudged you, indeed. You have duped us both, but I shall not see my sister pay for my own misdeeds. We will settle this as gentlemen," Anthony says.

"I understand. I shall see you at dawn," the duke assures.

"I do not understand. You would rather die than marry me?" daphne questions.

"I am truly sorry," the duke tells her.

"We need to go, Daph, before anyone should see us." Anthony turns towards me. "You as well Diana."

I sit in Penelope's room with her and Marina.

"Pen, he is kind and funny and a surprisingly accomplished dancer. And, well, I'm sure you've seen him with the small Bridgertons. He will be a wonderful father," Marina states.

Penelope chuckles lightly. "Surely, though, Colin is a tad young for marriage. You do need someone who will propose soon."

"But that is why Mr. Bridgerton is so perfect. Did you see the way he rescued me tonight? He's not like the other young men who play games and guard their affections. He is eager. I believe he will propose soon. I shan't have to marry Rutledge," Marina says. Penelope gets into her bed under the covers. " Oh, I am sorry. Am I keeping you awake with all this talk?"

"Yes, I do feel sleep coming over me," Penelope tells her.

"But, Pen... the best part is, when we wed, I'll be able to stay in town. And since you and Eloise are so close, and Di is so close to Daphne, we will all practically be sisters. Imagine that," Marina says before leaving.

I smile sadly at Penelope. "Do not stop fighting Pen." I laugh lightly. "Love perhaps is the only thing truly worth fighting for." I walk towards the door. "Goodnight."

As I walk down the hall to my room I can hear Aunt Featherington and Uncle Featherington in the study.

"I found your ledgers, hidden under old newspapers, no less. I know of every transaction... every financial account."

"Y... You do not know..." Uncle Featherington stammers.

"I know... everything. I know about your gambling. I know about your debts. I know that you have spent all our money," Aunt Featherington says.

"I shall not..." Uncle Featherington starts.

Aunt Featherington continues, "Including our girls' dowries!"

I know she does not mean mine. When my father died and everything was left to me he made sure in his will that his brother would never be able to get his hands on any of it. He knew of his brother's love of gambling and did not want to put my future in jeopardy by letting his brother handle my finances.

"Is that not why you rejected that perfectly acceptable Mr. Finch for our dear Philippa? Is it not why we continue to keep Miss Thompson in our home? You owe her father too. So the question certainly is not what I know! The question is... what are you going to do about it?" Aunt Featherington questions.

I can hear Uncle Featherington start to cry. I've heard enough as I head off to my own room for bed.


	9. Chapter 9

Knowing that Anthony and the Duke have dueled this morning I head to the Bridgerton house early. Lady Bridgerton is sitting on a couch looking like she had a marvelous evening.

"Good morning Lady Bridgerton," I greet.

"Oh. Diana. Is it not a little early for you to be here?" Lady Bridgerton questions.

"I was hoping I could speak to Daphne about something," I explain.

Lady Bridgerton nods. "You are welcome to wait." She puts her head in her hand as her maids tend to her. "I did not overindulge. Truly, it was just a poor night of sleep."

"I shall fetch a glass of raw eggs and garlic, ma'am. Should be just the thing."

Daphne walks into the room.

"Are you feeling better, dearest? Perhaps I, too, caught whatever it was that sent you home early from the party. I have a terrible headache, indeed," Lady Bridgerton says. Daphne sighs. "What is it?"

"I am engaged," Daphne states.

I gasp. "Engaged?"

"Oh! Well, that is wonderful news. So, you will be a princess," Lady Bridgerton says.

"No," Daphne tells her.

"No?" Lady Bridgerton asks.

"No, I will not. Mama, I am engaged to the duke. The duke asked for my hand, and I accepted," Daphne explains.

Lady Bridgerton smiles for a moment. "You do not seem pleased. Whatever is wrong?"

"Oh no. No... Nothing is wrong. It simply happened so quickly. I've not had a moment to take it in. But I am overjoyed, Mama, truly," Daphne assures.

"Of course you are. You are to be a duchess!" I offer.

Lady Bridgerton pulls Daphne into a hug. "Oh, darling! I knew there was something between you... ruse or not! Well, tell me. Tell me everything! How do you feel?"

"So in love. I'm unsure how I can be expected to wait an entire month to marry. Could we not obtain a special license to marry this week? I do not wish to lie to you... But the duke and I..." Daphne starts.

Lady Bridgerton cuts her off, "You do not need to tell me anything. Whatever happened between the two of you, it is all right. I know good society makes quite a fuss about such things... but when it comes to love, such things happen more frequently than one might expect. Even your father and I, we had trouble controlling our passions as well."

The housekeeper comes back in with a glass. "Your drink, ma'am."

"Will not be necessary, Wilson. I am feeling much improved. We have a wedding to plan in three days. My darling girl, you are getting what you always wanted. You are marrying for love," Lady Bridgerton muses.

One may say modesty is a virtue, yet this author is hardly a virtuous woman. It is therefore my great pleasure to announce the news others questioned, but I never doubted. The diamond of the season has made her match, officially betrothed to the Duke of Hastings. The bride, undoubtedly, is giddy with anticipation over the impending nuptials, an event that will apparently take place sooner rather than later. Of course, there are only two reasons to procure a special license and race to the altar: true love, or concealing a scandal.

Aunt Featherington stomps into the parlor. "It seems Mrs. Varley had some trouble at the modiste this morning. Madame Delacroix is refusing to give her any of the dresses until the last few months' bills are paid."

"The young ladies have plenty of dresses. Perhaps it is possible for them to wear them all again," Uncle Featherington offers.

"And perhaps it is possible for you to do without your tobacco as well!" Aunt Featherington grabs the pipe from Uncle Featherington's hand.

"Mr. Colin Bridgerton for Miss Thompson."

Colin walks into the room, flowers in hand.

"Oh, Mr. Bridgerton, these are beautiful," Marina tells him.

"I applaud you, Miss Thompson. I bring you flowers on each of my visits, and yet you react with admirable surprise every time. I shall need to bring you something unexpected. A bushel of tomatoes, perhaps," Colin jokes.

Marina laughs. "Oh!"

"Marina hates tomatoes," Penelope states.

"That is untrue. I love tomatoes," Marina insists.

"Colin, you know where I have heard you can get excellent tomatoes? Greece. Perhaps you could bring back a tomato plant for Miss Thompson as a souvenir when you return from your travels this year," Penelope offers.

"I am uncertain of my travels at the moment, Pen," Colin tells her.

"But you were so keen to travel," Penelope reminds him.

Marina looks at Penelope like she may pounce on her.

"It is true. But, were I to go, there may be things in London I should miss even more than seeing the world," Colin explains.

"Some tea, Mr. Bridgerton?" Aunt Featherington offers.

"That would be lovely," Colin tells her.

I have been waiting with Daphne. Anthony and the duke have gone to obtain the marriage license.

"Denied?" Daphne and I ask at the same time.

"What on earth for?" Daphne questions.

"The archbishop of Canterbury did not think he owed me an explanation," Anthony explains.

"If we are to wait weeks for this wedding, it gives Cressida Cowper, not to mention Whistledown and anyone else, far too much time to uncover the truth of what happened in that garden," Daphne states. "Simon..."

"Lady Danbury."

"Welcome! Welcome!" Lady Bridgerton greets. "Is everyone as famished as I?"

"Now, this is far too grim a mood for the celebration I was counting on. What on earth is the matter?" Lady Danbury questions.

"Anthony?" Lady Bridgerton asks.

"We have been denied our request for a special license," Anthony informs them.

"What?" Lady Bridgerton questions.

"The archbishop did not see a need," the duke tells her.

"It is not the archbishop. It is the queen. Perhaps she has taken your rejection of her nephew to heart, or perhaps she is simply bored. Either way, it does not bode well for your daughter's social future, nor any of the Bridgertons, for that matter," Lady Danbury says.

"Surely we must be able to do something?" Lady Bridgerton insists.

"Give her what she wants. Attention. Appear before her yourselves and make a personal appeal. But she will not respond to begging, and she can sniff out even the faintest whiff of insincerity, so do not lay it on thick. Tell her you are in love, plain and simple and true. You can do that, can you not?" Lady Danbury says. Daphne nods. "Good. Now, where is the dinner I was promised?"

I grab Daphne's hand. "I shall leave you to your dinner. Everything will be worked out. Do not fret."

I run into Benedict on my way out.

"Diana. What are you doing here?" Benedict asks.

"I was keeping Daphne company," I explain. "But I am on my way out now."

"As am I," Benedict tells me.

"And where are you off to?" I ask.

"Do you remember Mr. Granville?" Benedict asks. I nod. "I went to his gallery." I smile. "He invited me back."

"So you've been painting?" I question.

"A little," Benedict tells me.

"Well I would desperately like to see it once you are done," I state.

"Maybe if you are lucky," Benedict tells me before taking off.


	10. Chapter 10

A little groveling in front of Her Majesty and the marriage license for Daphne and the duke was secured.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony. It is said that marriage hath in it less of beauty but more of safety than the single life. ...in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen. I now pronounce you man and wife.

I smile at Daphne as I manage to track her down at the reception. "It was such a beautiful wedding, Daph. Congratulations."

Daphne grabs my hands in hers. "I want to thank you, Diana."

"Whatever for?" I question.

"For being my very closest friend since the age of five. I cannot imagine we will not live across the street from each other anymore," Daphne tells me.

"You may be moving into Clyvedon but you will still make trips back into town," I assure her.

Daphne wraps me into a hug. "I will miss you."

"I will miss you more," I assure.

I stand with Penelope and Marina. Penelope is trying to get Marina to find another suitor.

"What about him? He seems... pleasant," Penelope offers. "Or him. Kind eyes. A fine enough husband, I think."

"Pen, I neither know nor have time for any of these men. Now, where is Colin?" Marina asks.

"You can choose anyone but him. He is my friend, Marina. I have known him forever. And I do not want him to be tricked and deceived into a lifelong commitment. You must not do this to a good man," Penelope tells her.

"Well, should I perhaps entrap a bad man, then? Perhaps you would find it acceptable for me to live my life with a man who treats me like a mere beast?" Marina counters.

"No, I only mean..." Penelope starts.

"What am I to do, Penelope? I will be a good wife to Colin, and he a good husband and father... however young and well-liked by you he may be," Marina assures.

Aunt Featherington walks over towards us. "Miss Thompson, you will be delighted to know that Lord Rutledge is no longer available. He is engaged as of this morning."

"That is... How terrible," Marina remarks.

"Best hope that whatever you have planned for Mr. Bridgerton actually works. It is your last hope," Aunt Featherington tells her.

Marina walks off towards Colin.

Lady Danbury walks over to me.

I curtsy. "Lady Danbury."

"Miss Featherington. To see you without Mr Bridgerton, a rare sight indeed," Lady Danbury remarks.

I smile slightly. "Mr Bridgerton and I are not courting. We do have lives apart from one another."

Lady Danbury nods. "Just give it time."

I look at her curiously. "Time, Lady Danbury?"

"Mr Bridgerton will decide to settle down soon," Lady Danbury states.

"Are you suggesting that Mr bridgerton and I should get engaged?" I question.

"I see the way you two look at one another," Lady Danbury tells me.

Eloise walks over towards us. "Lady Danbury you are Lady Whistledown." I look at her in shock. "Yes, you certainly enjoy spreading secrets, do you not?"

"Dear child, have you lost your wits? Everyone enjoys secrets. Otherwise, why would Lady Whistledown's paper be so successful? I am flattered by your accusation, but it is simply not true. Though, when you unmask the writer, do let me know," Lady Danbury tells her. She turns to me. "And you should think about what I told you."

"I see we are playing detective now Eloise. Might I suggest not accusing everyone in this room of being Lady Whistledown you will not get anywhere," I tease.

I find Benedict by himself. "You are not to believe what your sister Eloise just did."

"What this time?" Benedict asks.

"She just accused Lady Danbury of being Lady Whistledown," I inform him.

"Well is she?" Benedict asks.

I chuckle. "No.

Mr Granville walks over towards Benedict and I. "A most enjoyable party."

Benedict smiles. "Indeed."

Mr Granville leans into Benedict trying to keep me and anyone else from hearing their conversation. "Um, Bridgerton... Um... The other night..."

"What happened the other night? I do not believe anything happened at all," Benedict tells him.

Mr Granville sighs in relief. "Ah... Very well." A woman joins us. "Ah, dearest... I believe you know Mr. Bridgerton. My wife, Mrs. Lucy Granville."

"It is a pleasure, Mr. Bridgerton," she says.

Mr Granville turns towards me. "I do not believe we have properly met."

"This is Miss Diana Featherington," Benedict introduces me.

Mrs Granville smiles. "You should join us at my husband's gallery sometime."

I smile.

"Oh I do not know about that. It was nice to see you again," Benedict tells them. He leads me away from the couple.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask.

"You do not need to be involved with Mr Granville's gallery," Benedict tells me.

I walk out of the hall knowing Benedict will follow. I lead him into the study, closing the door after us.

"Diana..." Benedict starts.

"I know. We should not be alone. But why can I not go with you to the gallery?" I ask.

"You are too pure. We cannot ruin that," Benedict tells me.

"What happens at the gallery?" I question.

"Parties," Benedict tells me.

"What kinds of parties?" I ask.

Benedict sighs as he sits on the edge of the desk. "Once again you ask me such things you know we should not talk about."

"I want to stop being so blind to everything in the world," I confess. "So please. Just tell me why I cannot go."

"It's not just a gallery for art..." Benedict starts.

"I have gathered that much," I remark.

Benedict makes a face. "There are women of improper morals and men who would ruin a girl like you in a heartbeat."

"Ladies of the night?" I question. Benedict looks surprised that I even know the term. "I have heard you and your brothers talking before."

"Diana you do not need to know of such inappropriate things," Benedict tells me.

"Inappropriate like what you and those women do?" I ask.

"You do not even know what you are speaking of. You should not be asking about this," Benedict tells me.

"Why not? Maybe I am sick and tired of being so prim and proper." I step closer to Benedict so we are mere centimeters apart. "Maybe I want you to touch me like you touch those women."

"Di..." Benedict starts.

"Please," I beg.

Benedict places his hand on my cheek and my breath hitches in my throat, even though it is a simple gesture I have never had a man touch me like this before. Benedict leans in his face centimeters from my own as he places his hand on my waist. Just like that his lips touch mine ever so gently.

"Benedict?"

I push myself away from Benedict. Anthony is standing in the doorway.

"Diana?" Anthony looks angry. "We will talk about this later. They are bringing the carriages around," he tells us.

We all follow behind Daphne as she leaves the house.

"Perhaps I can come with you. I've always wanted to live in a castle," Gregory tells her.

"If Daphne is going to take anyone with her, Gregory, it will be me," Hyacinth insists.

"The two of you are staying here until our dear sister allows us a visit," Colin tells them. He pulls Daphne into a hug.

"You mean if she allows us a visit. I'm sure you'll enjoy the peace and quiet," Benedict says as he hugs his sister.

"I am sure she will write," I say.

Daphne pulls me into a hug. "I am going to miss all of you terribly."

"Even me?" Anthony asks.

"Even you," Daphne assures.

Anthony kisses his sister on the cheek.

Daphne turns to Eloise. "I have a present for you."

I stand off to the side with Benedict. Anthony gives us a look and Benedict moves away slightly.

After Daphne says goodbye to Eloise her mother pulls her into a hug. Daphne takes one last look at her old home before getting into the carriage followed by her husband. It's sad but it is a part of life. Daphne has found a husband that she loves and I can only hope to do the same.

Everyone starts to head back into the Bridgerton house. Benedict and I included until Anthony stops us.

"I'd like a word with you two," Anthony tells us.

"Brother..." Benedict starts.

"Now," Anthony states.

Benedict and I stand in front of Anthony in the study.

"It was not what it looked like, Brother," Benedict insists.

"Not what it looked like? You and Diana were alone in the study kissing. You are lucky it was I who found you. You are lucky Diana does not have a brother. Otherwise you would be heading for a duel," Anthony insists.

"It was one kiss." Benedict looks at me. "It was a mistake."

It feels like I have just been stabbed in the heart.

"It was my fault," I state.

"Diana..." Benedict starts.

"No. No. It was. I was the one that brought Benedict in here. I was the one that was asking him silly questions. I was the one that kissed him," I insist.

Anthony shakes his head. "It does not matter Diana. Benedict should have been the one to put an end to it before it even started," Anthony states. "You two are friends. I know that. But you need to be careful. This could have ruined both of you. Both of our families. I trust that it will not happen again." I nod my head. "Diana I shall walk you home."

I nod my head once more. I can't even look at Benedict as I leave the study. I did not think the kiss was nothing. How silly of me to think that Benedict Bridgerton would ever care for me. That he could ever feel the same way that I do. That he could ever love me.


	11. Chapter 11

Dearest gentle reader, I must send felicitations to the new Duke and Duchess of Hastings. Congratulations and stamina as they embark on the most exhilarating time in a young couple's life. I am, of course, talking of the honeymoon. Is there a more romantic notion? To retreat from society together... finally leaving watchful eyes behind. While this author, along with the rest of the ton, will certainly miss its most-remarked-upon couple back in London, perhaps we might find solace in the promise of the duke and duchess returning to us bearing a surprise.

Today there is a picnic to attend. It is strange knowing Daphne will not be there. We always attend events together. Just knowing that she was there made me at ease. I always knew that I had a friend.

"Diana."

I see Benedict walking towards me.

"Benedict."

"Do not tell me that what my brother said has gotten to you," Benedict says.

"He is not wrong, Benedict. We were being careless," I state. "You said it yourself, it was a mistake."

Benedict looks like he wants to say something but his brother interrupts. "What did I tell you two?"

"We are standing in the middle of a garden," Benedict reminds him. "We are surrounded by people."

"When will you understand that I am just looking out for you both?" Anthony remarks.

Colin hits a glass with a knife drawing the attention of everyone. "May I have everyone's attention? I would like to make a small but important announcement. I have happy news to impart. I have asked Miss Marina Thompson to be my wife, and she has accepted."

Anthony walks away to speak with Lady Bridgerton.

I turn to Benedict. "Did you know about this?"

Benedict shakes his head. "No. Not a clue."

I force a smile. "I should go congratulate them."

"Di..." Benedict starts.

I shake my head. "I have to see to my family and you yours."

I sit in the parlor with Marina, Philipa, and Prudence.

"Do you think Colin will introduce us to his friends? Some of them are quite strapping," Prudence states.

"I am sure he will. I am sure all of our fortunes are about to change," Marina assures.

Penelope stands in the doorway. "Mm. Especially Colin's."

"You look very lovely today, Penelope," Marina tells her.

"Do not mock me," Penelope says with a smile.

Penelope sits down next to me on the couch and Marina sits beside her.

"It pains me you should think every compliment a mockery," Marina tells her.

"Do not pity me, either," Penelope says.

"I do not pity you, Penelope. I respect you. You have been a true friend since I arrived here, and I rely on your continued friendship and sympathy," Marina tells her.

Penelope laughs. "My continued silence, you mean?"

"You think so little of me, I cannot bear it. I never would have made my way through this awful tangle without your kindness. Please do not tell me you regret it," Marina says.

"I would never bring scandal on you or our family, if that is what you ask, but I cannot condone your actions," Penelope tells her.

"I want you as my friend, Pen. Can you not try to understand and be a little pleased for me?" Marina asks.

Aunt Featherington walks into the parlor. "Marina? Time for the modiste. We must see to your trousseau."

Marina follows Aunt Featherington out of the room.

Philipa scoffs. "She is so lucky. A whole new wardrobe and a handsome husband. Between the two of them, they will make the most beautiful baby."

"He is not the father, you dunderhead!" Prudence tells her through a laugh.

Philipa chuckles. "Oh, my goodness! I clean forgot."

"Do not laugh at him! She makes a fool of him already," Penelope tells them.

Prudence scoffs. "Ugh! You are no fun anymore."

"Was I ever?" Penelope questions.

Tonight Colin, Anthony, and Lady Bridgerton are joining us for dinner. Marina stands at the top of the stairs before walking down towards the rest of us.

"Turn, please. Profile," Aunt Featherington instructs. Marina does as Aunt Featherington asks. "Swish." Marina looks at her. "Swish!" Marina gives in and moves her arms forward and back. "Good. You have done well thus far, Miss Thompson. Tonight, I shall need to raise the matter of a swift wedding."

Penelope chuckles. "I am... very sorry. But this plan of yours, I find it wanting. Deceiving Colin is one thing, but being at close quarters with his mother, that is quite another. Lady Bridgerton is shrewd. She has had eight children. Trust she knows when she is being managed."

The diner is dull. I find myself wishing for Benedict's company. Even at the dullest of balls, or picnics, or dinners he was always one to make me laugh.

"What were your favorite pastimes in the country?" Lady Bridgerton asks Marina.

"I enjoyed riding above all else, my lady," Marina tells her.

"Please, you must call me Violet now. Remember?" Lady Bridgerton says.

"Miss Thompson is such a proper young lady, is she not?" Aunt Featherington offers.

"Have you traveled at all beyond England, Miss Thompson? It has long been Colin's greatest ambition to travel the world," Lady Bridgerton says.

"Never. Though it is now a great ambition of mine as well," Marina tells her.

"I am sensing a honeymoon in foreign parts. What think you, Lord Bridgerton?" Aunt Featherington asks.

"I would not like to speculate," Anthony replies.

"Yes, indeed. I believe a honeymoon in foreign parts would be just the thing. Mr. Bridgerton, you might even make the most of this fine weather we've been having if you choose to marry sooner rather than later," Aunt Featherington offers.

"Colin is still very young. I believe a lengthier engagement would be prudent, excellent weather notwithstanding," Anthony states.

"Mother, have I told you Miss Thompson is very accomplished at needlework? She is quite brilliant. Puts my sisters to shame," Colin says.

"I can assure you, that is not true," Marina insists.

"You have not seen my sister Daphne's embroidery. In all honesty, it is like a battlefield," Colin remarks.

After dinner we sit in the parlor. Philipa plays the pianoforte as Prudence tries her best to sing in tune but does not succeed. Anthony sits down on the other end of the lounge under the window.

"Diana. I do not wish for you to be angry with me. You have to understand. I see you as a little sister," Anthony tells me. I smile slightly. "I do not want Benedict to hurt you. I do not want for him to be the reason you cannot find a husband."

I nod my head. "I know. Thank you Anthony. For looking out for me."

I sit with Penelope in her room. "I am sorry Pen."

"Whatever are you sorry for?" Penelope questions.

"I can see the way you look at him. You have longed for Colin Bridgerton for years. And now he is to marry another. Not just anyone, your cousin. I can only imagine the pain your heart is feeling," I tell her.

Aunt Featherington walks through the door. "Why are you not dressed? I told you we were dining with Lady Gartside this evening."

Penelope coughs. "Sorry, Mama. I'm not feeling well."

"I ought to make you come along to cough and splutter all evening. It would serve Lady Gartside right. She has been withholding a dinner invitation from me, and now look... Not a day after Miss Thompson's announcement, and they all come crawling," Aunt Featherington tells her.

"And what of you, Diana? Why are you not dressed?" Aunt Featherington questions.

"I think I should stay and keep Penelope company," I offer.

Aunt Featherington sighs. "Penelope does not need you for company."

"I do not plan on attending the dinner. So make up whatever excuse you would like. I am not leaving Penelope," I tell her.

Aunt Featherington stares me down before leaving.

"Enjoy your evening, Mama," Penelope tells her. She turns to me. "You did not have to stay."

I smile. "I will not leave you Penelope. Besides why would I want to go to dinner with Lady Gartside? I think I would rather be run over by a carriage." Penelope stands up. "Where are you going?"

"I have a hunch," Penelope tells me.

I chuckle. "Lead the way."

I watch as Penelope rummages through Marina's things. She eventually finds two letters which she holds side by side.

"What is it Penelope?" I question.

"These letters are not the same. The handwriting is different," Penelope tells me.

I smile. "Sir George may still be alive yet."

Penelope and I wait for Marina to arrive. She walks in the door looking surprised to see us.

"Diana, Penelope, what are you...?" Marina grabs the letters from Penelope. "How dare you!"

"Look. Look at the signature on Sir George's last letter, and this one from many months ago," Penelope tells her.

"So?" Marina asks.

"So, they are not the same," I tell her.

"The slant of the lettering, it is all wrong," Penelope explains.

"Penelope, I'm tired. I haven't..." Marina starts.

Penelope grabs another letter. "This one. It was in a drawer on the back of Mama's desk. She or even Mrs. Varley practiced George's signature, but even they could not get it perfect. That last letter, the one where he broke your heart... it was a forgery, Marina. George never wrote those things to you. He never denied loving you. He never denied your child."

"Perhaps," Marina offers.

"Marina..." Penelope starts.

"Even if you are correct..." Marina continues.

Penelope cuts her off, "I am correct. You cannot deny..."

"Even if it is true, George has still not replied to my letters. He has abandoned me, while Colin has embraced me," Marina states.

"I thought you loved him. George," I state.

"I was a fool. This changes nothing." marina lights the letters on fire before dropping them into the fireplace.

"Why is your bag packed?" I question.

"Tell me you are not going to Gretna Green!" Penelope says. "Marina! What will you do when Colin realizes the child is not his? That day will come. He is not simple."

"What I will do is live safe in the knowledge that my husband is a good and kind man. He would never turn me out on the street. He will care for us both, come what may," Marina insists.

"But what of him? What of Colin?" Penelope questions.

"You love him," Marina states.

"What?" Penelope asks.

"No, it makes sense now. Your objections, your meddling. You love Colin Bridgerton," Marina explains.

"You know not of what you speak," Penelope insists.

"I believe I know so much more than you, Pen... of Colin, of the world. If I am to be the executioner of this childish infatuation, then so be it. Your love is an unrequited fantasy. Colin sees you as you are and regards you no differently than he does Eloise, or even little Hyacinth. He sees me as a wife, a woman. And as a woman, I must make these difficult choices for myself and for my child... even if they hurt your feelings," Marina insists.

I wrap my arms around Penelope. "Let us go." I glare at Marina. "You think yourself so high and mighty, to be marrying a Bridgerton. But remember the bigger they are the harder they fall."

All is fair in love and war, but some battles leave no victor, only a trail of broken hearts that makes us wonder if the price we pay is ever worth the fight. The ones we love have the power to inflict the greatest scars. For what thing is more fragile... than the human heart?

The bond between man and bride is private, sacred. But I must tell you, I have learned that a grave fraud is afoot. As if the Featheringtons did not have enough to be dealing with, Miss Marina Thompson is with child... and she has been from the very first day she arrived in our fair city. Desperate times may call for desperate measures, but I would wager many will think her actions beyond the pale. Perhaps she thought it her only option, or perhaps she knows no shame. But I ask you, can the ends ever justify such wretched means?


	12. Chapter 12

Miss Marina Thompson's recent fall from grace continues to echo through every drawing room in town, days after it was revealed her engagement to Colin Bridgerton was nothing more than a sham. Of course, a lady's disgrace does not merely tarnish her own name. Like the tars of the Thames, it also leaves a horrid smear on anyone nearby. While there is no parasol in the world strong enough to shelter a ruined woman, the fallen Miss Thompson can only hope she shall find a refuge... somewhere.

Daphne is back in town and has arranged a rendezvous between Colin and Marina. I tag along hoping to speak with Daphne in person. I have missed having my best friend around to speak to whenever I may need.

"Miss Thompson," Daphne greets. Marina curtsies. "Thank you for joining us."

"I did not realize I had a choice," Marina tells her.

"My brother wished for an audience. And I wish to avoid any further scandal attached to my family's name. I will remain here as a chaperone," Daphne tells her.

I follow her over to sit on a couch. I smile. "Daph. You are glowing."

Daphne smiles. "I wish I were back under better circumstances."

"Marina... you must tell me that this Whistledown woman is mistaken. What she wrote, it cannot be true," Colin insists.

"But it is," Marina confesses.

"You are with child? I do not understand. We were to be wed. You... You said you loved me," Colin says.

"Colin, I hold you in the greatest esteem," Marina tells him.

"'Esteem'? You are a cruel woman indeed to stand here and talk of friendly affection, as if you have not just committed a grave sin against me," Colin says.

"Speak not of sin, Mr. Bridgerton. I did not come here to be shamed by you, nor anyone else. I did not know better. You may think me a villain, but I did what I thought I must. No one ever truly helped me, or guided me in a different direction. I had no choice. I needed to wed. And you, you were the only man who offered me even a glimpse of happiness," Marina explains.

"So I should feel flattered, then? Consider myself lucky that you chose me, lied to me, tried to trick me into a fraud of a marriage?" Colin questions. "I shall take my leave of you for the last time, Miss Thompson." Colin walks to the door but stops and turns back to face Marina. "You wish to know the cruelest part of your deception? If you had simply come to me and told me of your situation... I'd have married you without a second thought. That is how in love I believed myself to be. But I see now that was all a lie." Colin walks out the door.

"I believe I would like to return home now. After all, we don't want another scandal attached to your family name," Marina tells Daphne before leaving.

"Might I stay?" I ask.

Daphne nods. "Of course."

"I know that what Marina has done has caused scandal for both your family and mine, but I do not wish to lose you as a friend," I confess.

Daphne grabs my hand. "And I do not intend to let that happen. You have always been held in the highest esteem. Everyone knows you are living with your Aunt and Uncle as a circumstance."

I nod my head. "I cannot imagine how different life would be had my mother and father lived." I shake my head. "But enough of feeling sorry for me. I do have something I did not wish to write about."

"What?" Daphne asks.

"The day of your wedding I nearly caused another scandal," I tell her.

"You?" Daphne asks. I nod. "How?"

"Benedict and I were alone in the study and... and we kissed," I tell her. Daphne gasps. "And Anthony caught us."

"Diana..." Daphne starts.

"Benedict called it a mistake," I state. I shake my head. "But I do not feel the same."

"You love him don't you?" Daphne asks. I nod my head, my voice failing me. "I can speak with him."

I shake my head. "No. No. He made it clear how he feels. And I regret it. Anthony will not even let us out of his sight. Now I feel it hard to even just be friends with Benedict."

Rose walks into the room. "The carriage is waiting, ma'am. We must prepare for the queen's luncheon."

"Could I go with you? You could be my chaperone," I say.

Daphne chuckles. "Me your chaperone? Who would have thought?"

The Queen's tea is sure to be a bore. I have lost all hope of finding a husband this season. I have spent most of my time with Benedict just to have him call me a mistake.

"Diana. We should talk," Benedict tells me.

"About what, Benedict?" I question.

"About what happened the other day," Benedict tells me.

"The other day?" I pretend to think. "I do not know what you are talking about."

"Di, do not act like this," Benedict tells me.

Mr. Granville and his wife approach Benedict and I. "I've missed you at the studio of late. You must join me for another drawing lesson. As I said, improvement is all a matter of practice."

"At least, that is the excuse he gives for coming home with paint in all kinds of peculiar places," Mrs Granville remarks.

Benedict giggles.

"Were you able to meet my friend Wetherby at my party?" Mr. Granville asks. "Come, I shall introduce you."

"No, thank you." Benedict looks over his shoulder. "I... I see my mother requires Miss Featherington and I's presence. Good day!"

I smile at the couple as Benedict ushers me away.

"Diana may we please continue our conversation?" Benedict asks.

I shake my head. "I have nothing more to say."

"Diana please," Benedict begs.

"Good afternoon," I say before walking off.

"Diana," Benedict says.

I ignore him and continue walking. I spot my family walking into the tea. Aunt Featherington walks right over to Lady Bridgerton.

"My dear Lady Bridgerton... is this not a dreadful circumstance, for us both to have been so duped by that scheming hussy? To think that Miss Thompson would take advantage of my kindness after I opened my home to her. You must believe, I had no idea of..." Aunt Featherington starts.

Lady Bridgerton says nothing as she walks off.

"Lady Featherington, I must ask you to leave," a servant tells her.

"But I have an invitation," Aunt Featherington protests.

"Not anymore. I am sure you wish to avoid any further unpleasantness," the servant remarks.

I leave with my family no longer wishing to be at the tea. I just wish for the season to be finished.

A knock on my door draws my attention from my book.

"Daphne? Why on earth are you here?" I question.

"I came to speak with Miss Thompson," Daphne tells me.

"I am sure your mother was most unpleased to hear that," I state.

"I did not tell her," Daphne explains.

"Probably for the best," I offer.

"I saw you and Benedict speaking at the tea before you left," Daphne says. I nod my head. "Might I ask what you were speaking about?"

"We did not speak. Benedict wished to talk about what happened and I did not," I tell her. I shake my head. "As I do not wish to speak of it now." I force a smile. "So tell me how has your honeymoon been?"

"It has been blissful. Something I wish that you to will get to experience one day soon," Daphne tells me. I smile. "Will I see you at the concert tonight?"

I shake my head. "No the Featheringtons are not invited."

"Well you will not be missing much," Daphne assures.

"And whatever I do miss I am sure to read about in Lady Whistledown's paper tomorrow," I tell her.

Dearest reader, a question. Is anything more exhilarating than taking a gamble? For it is often the highest risk that carries the greatest reward. Yet, wager wrongly, and you might find yourself left with nothing but regret.

Of course, one can never know for sure whether a wager will make a fortune or ruin it, unless one chooses a more secure pursuit. But as the season continues, the biggest gamblers have yet to truly show their hand... which leaves gossip in short supply in recent days. In fact, this author can think of no other event that merits a mention.

It is worthy of note, however, that the Duke and Duchess of Hastings have yet to entertain callers together. Our newlyweds are no doubt still secluded in nuptial bliss. Who could fault them? And who could be surprised if their diligent efforts are rewarded with a new arrival within the year.

Without warning Penelope bursts into my room.

"Pen!"

"I'm sorry, Di, but Benedict is waiting for you at the servants entrance," Penelope tells me.

"Benedict Bridgerton?" I ask.

Penelope nods. "Yes and he wishes to speak to you."

"Alright. Thank you Pen," I tell her. "Please do not tell your mother about this."

"I would never," Penelope assures me.

I head down to the servants entrance. I open the door and Benedict is waiting there for me.

"Should you not be at the concert?" I question.

"I know you do not wish to speak to me, but please just listen," Benedict tells me.

"Benedict..." I start.

"Please," Benedict pleads.

I close the door behind me and head farther into the yard away from listening ears. I wait for Benedict to continue.

"I had a realisation tonight. Well rather Mr Granville of all people made me realise something," Benedict tells me. I nod my head as I cross my arms over my chest. "I am the second son. I am not bound by the rules of society."

"So you came to tell me that you are free while I sit waiting around for some man to marry me so I might yet get away from this house and these people?" I ask.

"No. I came to tell you that you are my dearest friend, Diana." He takes a step towards me. "And that I cannot live without you in my life." Benedict puts his hand on my check. "What I said the other day. Our kiss was not a mistake." He places his other hand on my waist. "I have thought about nothing but you since that day. I love you."

I look at Benedict in shock. He loves me. Benedict Bridgerton loves me.

"I love you too," I confess.

Benedict smiles as he places his lips on mine. Benedict grabs hold of me pulling me closer to him. After a moment Benedict pulls away leaving me breathless.

"We cannot go further," Benedict tells me. I nod. "But I will make a right woman out of you. I shall ask your uncle for permission to wed."

I smile widely. "It is too late tonight and I am in no rush. So long as I know you love me I will be content."

Benedict smiles as he kisses me one more time.


	13. Chapter 13

The fastest courtship upon record occurred during the markedly wet season of 1804, when Miss Mary Leopold secured a betrothal over a plate of sugared almonds and licorice in just four and a half minutes. Of course, Miss Leopold and her new husband would leave London mere hours after their wedding. Reason unknown. Of all that I have imparted to you, dear reader, there is but one bit of wisdom you must heed most. One can never know the truth of a marriage hiding behind closed doors.

Beware indeed, blushing newlyweds. You know not the future that awaits. Will there be hardship or indignity? Or will one's future see the rarest accomplishment of all, a true love match? As for which of these fates await the eager matches of the season of 1813, only two things will tell... Time, and, as always, this author.

It seems that in the few moments I was alone with Benedict Penelope had found Marina passed out on the floor of her room. I head with Penelope to check on her.

Penelope knocks on the door. "Marina?"

"Pen, come in," Marina tells her.

Penelope opens the door and Marina is not in bed as she

"Wh... What are you doing? Mama said you must rest," Penelope reminds Marina.

"I am already feeling much improved," Marina tells her.

"Marina..." Penelope starts.

"What? Penelope, I assure you I am well. That tea has accomplished what I needed it to. And now, with the season over... I can finally go home," Marina tells us.

"So that means you are no longer..." I trail off.

"With child? I would have felt something by now, I am certain," marina assures.

"You caused quite a flutter," Penelope tells her.

"That was not my intention. But I am sorry for everything I have done and said. You were right about Colin. He is a good man with a good heart. You were very good to him. I am certain one day he will see it," Marina says.

I can hear a carriage outside. "That is odd. We weren't expecting any callers today." Marina's face falls as she looks out the window. "Marina? Are you quite well?"

Penelope and I sit with a broken Marina on the couch. Her caller was anything but welcome. It is not Sir George but his brother with horrible news.

Aunt Featherington and Daphne walk into the parlor.

"Mr Crane, how delightful to make your acquaintance. I had no idea a soldier such as yourself was coming to town. And, well, Miss Thompson has not received any correspondence from you in quite some time," Aunt Featherington says.

"Nor would I have expected her to, my lady," Mr Crane states.

"I beg your pardon?" Aunt Featherington questions.

"That man is not who you believe him to be, Lady Featherington. It is not George, but his brother, Sir Phillip," Marina tells her.

"I have come bearing grim news today. My brother George died on the battlefield... several weeks ago, and, uh..." Mr crane starts.

Marina gets up and walks out of the room. Daphne and I both follow after her.

"Marina?" I ask.

"Marina, please, wait," Daphne says.

Marina stops walking and turns to face us. "He was writing to me... George... to tell me he loved me... to tell me we could run away together and marry and have our child. Sir Phillip found this half-written letter amongst George's belongings after he, um... If it were not for your recent inquiries, Sir Phillip never would have known I was here, and I never would have known George... He loved me." Marina starts to cry. "All this time, he loved me. I thought him a villain, but he was not." Marina takes a deep breath. "He had a perfectly reasonable explanation for not writing back to me. And I was wrong." Marina walks away heading up to her room.

"I cannot imagine what she is going through," I admit.

"Her heart is broken," Daphne states. I nod my head. "I should be off. I still have much to attend to for the ball."

"I shall see you there," I tell her.

"I almost forgot. I invited your cousins and Lady Featherington," Daphne tells me. "I hope that Lady Whistledown may take note and stop writing such horrible things about your family."

I nod my head. "Thank you."

"Our credit at the modiste, it is still rather precarious. As in, it is nonexistent, Mrs Varley tells Aunt Featherington.

I follow behind the two down the stairs.

"The young ladies will just have to wear something they've worn before," Aunt Featherington states.

"Before?" Prudence asks. "Mama, I would rather not attend."

"Can one even wear a dress worn before?" Philipa asks.

As we walk into the parlor I spot Mr Crane standing there.

"I beg your pardon, my lady, but it seems my business here is not quite finished. I would very much like to speak to Miss Thompson. I have a question for her," Mr Crane explains.

Mrs Varley runs to fetch Marina.

"Marry you?" Marina asks. "I do not understand."

"After my brother clearly took liberties with your... virtue... I would merely be doing my duty," Mr Crane explains.

Aunt Featherington gasps. "A respectable marriage! Miss Thompson! What a fine thing. Sir Phillip inherited the Crane title. He has a perfectly adequate estate to support you and perhaps your distant cousins too."

"I cannot. I do not know this man. I do not love this man. I cannot marry this man," Marina insists.

"George cared for you very much, Miss Thompson, and that will never change, but he would have wanted you to be looked after. He would have wanted you to be supported. Allow me to realize my late brother's wishes," Mr Crane says.

"I thank you for your offer, Sir Phillip, but I believe you should now take your leave," Marina tells him.

"Very well. I wish you all the best, Miss Thompson," Mr Crane tells her before leaving.

"What have you done? That was a perfectly acceptable proposal," Aunt Featherington tells her.

"I am no longer with child, Lady Featherington, so it is neither necessary, nor acceptable, for me to participate in any more unwanted arrangements or disingenuous schemes," Marina tells her.

Madame Delacroix is delivering our dresses for Daphne's ball.

Aunt Featherington gasps. "Oh! Astonishing, Madame Delacroix!"

"Because you were able to pay in advance this time, and since I happened to have some fabrics no one else seemed to want... There are two others just like it, Lady Featherington," Madame Delacroix tells her.

"Mine will have to be taken in, of course," Prudence says.

"Mine's perfect," Philipa states.

"And mine is yellow," Penelope says.

"You see, young ladies, everything works out in the end. And Philipa, perhaps Mr. Finch might even reconsider his proposal, now that, um, you have your dowry again," Aunt Featherington offers.

"Again?" Philipa asks. "Well, did I lose it somewhere the first time?"

I hear a plate shatter in the hallway. I make my way out with Aunt Featherington and see Marina staging there.

"Miss Thompson? What is it?" Aunt Featherington asks.

"I believe I need a doctor," Marina tells her.


	14. Chapter 14

The final ball of any season is distinguished by one of two things, anticipation... or dread. For, while those who have been successful in the year's marriage market look forward to flaunting their perfect, joyous unions... others shudder at the thought of spending one last night before the discerning eyes of the ton. As they know, indeed, just what the evening signifies, that their time is officially up. And yet, to those who may still find themselves out of both choices and hope, fear not. For who knows when and where one's fortunes may change?

Upon arriving at the ball I spot Daphne almost immediately.

"Good evening, Your Grace," I greet.

Daphne laughs lightly. "Good evening Miss Featherington."

"Are you sure you would not like to take me into your care? Clyvedon is absolutely beautiful," I tell her.

"Thank you, Di," Daphne says.

"It makes me long for my old family home," I admit.

"You know you are welcome to visit me any time here," Daphne tells me.

I smile. "I shall leave you to your guests."

I find Penelope by herself. "Come now, Pen. It is the last ball of the season do not stand to the side. Find someone to dance with." I notice she is staring at Colin. "At least talk to him. Nothing that happened is your fault. He will understand." I offer her a smile before walking off.

"Enjoying your evening?"

I turn and see Benedict standing there smiling at me.

"Much more now," I tell him.

Benedict holds his hand out to me. "Care for a dance?"

I nod my head as I take his hand. "I shall care for more than one."

Benedict chuckles. "I shall dance with you for the whole night if it makes you happy."

So that is what we do. Song after song Benedict and I dance. We only stop as the sky opens up and rain falls upon us. I chuckle as Benedict grabs my hand and rushes me under cover from the storm. Daphne does not move. Instead her and the duke stand in the rain. I cannot help but smile at the sight.

"Everyone... I believe this evening is complete. We shall thank our gracious hosts for such a splendid soiree in the morning. Now, go. Out. At once," Lady Danbury tells everyone.

Benedict turns to me. "I did not see your Uncle."

"Come round tomorrow. I shall block the door so he cannot leave," I tell him with a chuckle.

Benedict smiles. "I shall be there in the morning."

I head home with my family longing for morning to come.

"Mr. Finch has such a warm countenance, does he not? And his gaze, it inspires me," Philipa says.

"Perhaps it might inspire you into silence," Prudence remarks.

"Prudence, be kind. You will have plenty of opportunities to find your match this summer. I am thinking a full renovation of our country house is in order this..." Aunt Featherington trails off. In the hall are two large men in black coats and red shirts. "Where is Miss Thompson?"

Marina walks down a few steps. She looks worn and upset.

"Oh, my lady." Mrs Varley rushes towards Aunt Featherington. "There is news."

"What is the matter?" Aunt Featherington asks as she moves away from us.

"It is your husband, ma'am. They are saying he is dead. The Bow Street Runners have questions," Mrs Varley explains.

I rush from the house.

"Diana!" Penelope shouts.

I ignore her and continue across the street. I rush through the front door of the Bridgerton house with not even a knock. Anthony walks out from the office.

"Diana, it is late. What is it that you need?" Anthony asks.

"I need to see Benedict," I tell him.

"Surely whatever it is this can wait until morning," Anthony insists.

"No. No it cannot. My Uncle is dead," I tell him.

Anthony looks at me in shock. "I shall get him for you."

In a moment Benedict is racing down the stairs towards me. He is followed by Anthony, Daphne, the duke, Colin, Eloise, and Lady Bridgerton.

"Diana. How did this happen?" Benedict asks.

I shake my head. "I do not know. We must get married as soon as possible."

"Married?" Anthony asks.

"I had plans to visit Lord Featherington tomorrow to ask for permission to marry Diana," Benedict explains.

"Why not wait until Lord Featherington's heir is found?" Eloise asks.

"He could oppose the marriage," Benedict tells her.

"I still need his permission. I am only twenty," I state.

"So that only leaves two options," Daphne says.

"A special license," Anthony offers.

"Or Gretna Green," Colin offers.

I look at Benedict waiting for him to decide.

"I shall talk to the archbishop first thing in the morning," Benedict states.

"Since nothing can be done until then all of you back to bed," Lady Bridgerton orders. "I shall have a maid make up the guest room for you, Diana."

I smile as I nod. "Thank you, Lady Bridgerton."

Lady Bridgerton smiles. "Please call me Violet."

Everyone starts to go back to their own rooms. Benedict takes my hand in his.

"Everything will work out, Diana. I promise you," Benedict assures. I nod my head. "Let's get you to bed."

If there is to ever be a grander finish to a season than the one provided by the Duke and Duchess of Hastings this year, this author will need to feast upon her own words. For it was this couple's memorable affair that brought another scandalous London season to a close. As many now leave the city behind for greener pastures, some endings seem more permanent than others. Of course, there are other endings that will offer new beginnings... however uncertain those new beginnings might be.

I sit with Daphne in the parlor waiting to see if Benedict will be able to get the special license we need to wed.

"If you keep biting on your nails you will bite your whole finger off," Daphne warns. I give her a look. "I am just saying. You do not wish to be missing a finger on your wedding day do you?"

Just as I am out of finger nails Benedict and Anthony walk into the room. I hold my breath waiting for my future to be decided by a yes or a no. Benedict smiles as he pulls a piece of paper from behind his back.

"We got it," Benedict tells me.

I let out a chuckle. "I have a wedding to plan."

Daphne smiles. "I am so happy for you two."

"Congratulations," Anthony offers.

"Do you think your mother would let us have the reception here?" I ask.

Benedict nods. "I am sure of it."

"I have three days to plan a wedding," I state.

"I shall help you with everything," Daphne assures.

I smile at Benedict and he smiles back at me. We are to wed. I had only ever thought this possible in my wildest dreams.

The wedding and reception are a blur to me. The ton is buzzing with word of Benedict and I. Rumors have been flying about our quick wedding but I pay no mind. I know that this wedding is for love and not any other reason.

I smile as our carriage pulls up to the place I called home until the age of five. There is no one there to greet us. No one has lived or worked in this house in fifteen years.

"Maybe hiring servants should have been part of the wedding planning," I offer.

Benedict opens the large front door. "I think we shall make due for a day."

Everything is covered in sheets and the sheets covered in dust. I drag my hand along a couch. I stop in front of the fireplace. Hanging over the mantle is a portrait of my mother and father. I do not have many memories of them but in everyone of my dreams my mother is wearing the same blue dress as this portrait.

"This place truly is untouched by time," Benedict states. I nod my head. Benedict stands beside me. "You look just like your mother." I smile. "They would both be proud of the woman you have become."

"I like to think they would be proud to call you their son in law," I tell him.

Benedict smiles and then suddenly he picks me up. I let out a squeal not expecting the action. He laughs as he starts his way to the staircase.

"You do not even know where you are going," I protest.

"Yes I do," Benedict insists. "The first room with a bed."

Like he says Benedict puts me down in one of the many bedrooms. While I lived here it was a guest bedroom.

I put my hand on the back of Benedict's neck and pull him down towards me for a kiss. I would not say it's sweet. It is more needy. Like we are trying to make up for lost time. I feel Benedict's hands roam all over my body. He pulls away resting his forehead on mine.

"I love you," Benedict tells me.

I smile. "I love you too."

Electricity shoots down my spine when Benedict starts to unbutton my dress. I let the dress slip off of me and puddle at my feet. I wrap my arms around Benedict and tangle my fingers in his hair. Benedict trails kisses down my neck before lightly nipping at my breast. I let out a moan.

I reach my hands out to pull Benedict's shirt out from his trousers. He smiles as he starts to undo his tie and slip his vest off. I start to undo the buttons but find it hard to concentrate as Benedict kisses my neck. Once I manage to finish with the buttons Benedict shrugs the shirt of. I trail my hand down his chest. Suddenly he grabs my bottom and I jump wrapping my legs around his waist. He attaches his lips to mine once more. He walks us across the room and lays me down on the bed.

Benedict smiles down at me. "Do not be afraid. I shall teach you everything you need to know."


	15. epilogue

Benedict and I stand in the Hall waiting for the children to come downstairs.

"Can you believe Lydia is about to make her debut?" I remark.

"It feels like yesterday I was holding her in my arms for the first time," Benedict says.

"Time truly has flown by," I admit.

"In the best ways," Benedict states.

Thirty years of marriage have gifted Benedict and I eleven children of our own. William came by the end of our first year of marriage. He married two years ago a wonderful young woman, the oldest daughter of the Baron Masterson, Marjorie. They have already had one child, a boy they named Aaron. John is next. At twenty seven he is thinking about declaring his own intent to marry. I was able to talk him into letting Lydia have this year all to herself. Two years after John came Philip. He is very much enjoying his time as a bachelor. At twenty two Timothy has just finished his education at Oxford. He is ready to be out on his own. Follow in his brother's footsteps at raising hell. Lydia, our oldest daughter, is making her debut at twenty one. It took some convincing to push it so long but I think it for the best. After all I was twenty when I married Benedict and Daphne was twenty one when she married the duke. At eighteen Catherine has spent the better part of this past year trying to convenience Benedict and I that she was ready to debut. Of course Benedict and I did not agree. The last thing I need is two of my daughters debuting the same season. Edmund has just finished his education at Eton. He will be following in his brother's footsteps and starting at Oxford in the fall. At fifteen Eliza reminds oh so much of her Aunt Eloise. She is independent and too smart for her own good. Her twin brother Peter is our youngest boy. He is by far our quietest, kindest son. Margaret is fourteen pianoforte player I have ever heard. I know that if she try she could very well make a living from it. The baby of our family is twelve year old Bridget. She may be the youngest but has the loudest voice for sure. She will not let a single one of her siblings step on her or tell her what to do.

The children start to make their way towards my husband and I.

"I am already roasting," Eliza complains.

"Are you to complain the entire day, Eliza?" Timothy questions.

"Surely I cannot be expected to bear these fashions the entire day," Eliza remarks.

"I feel like a princess. Do I look like one?" Bridget asks.

"Do you truly wish to know what I think you look like?" Edmund remarks.

"Is Lydia still not ready?" I ask.

"She's only been readying herself the entire night," Catherine states.

"You mean her entire life," John remarks.

"I shall run upstairs and hasten her along," Philip offers.

"No need," Peter tells them.

Standing at the top of the stairs is Lydia. I smile widely at the sight of my daughter. She makes her way down the stairs towards the rest of us.

I grab her hands in mine. "You look so beautiful."

Lydia smiles. "Thank you mama."

I look to our sons. "Do not under any circumstances ruin this for your sister."

They all groan in response.

"Listen to your mother," Benedict tells them.

I cock my head to the side. "That goes for you to, dear."

Benedict puts his hand on his chest fainting offense. "I would never."

I chuckle. "No never. Now let's move along. We cannot be late."

"Being late is what our family is best at," Edmund remarks.

"Better late than never," Benedict offers with a smile.


End file.
